


Q's Cue

by Nevara_Alyss



Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout 3
Genre: F/M, First Time, Loss of Virginity, Post-Apocalyptic, Sci-Fi, Sexual Content, coarse language, extreme violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-07-02
Updated: 2014-10-10
Packaged: 2017-12-17 12:04:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 16
Words: 24,209
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/867328
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nevara_Alyss/pseuds/Nevara_Alyss
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Quinn, following in her father's footsteps, finds herself thrown in to a world that she wasn't prepared for. Her father's disappearance drives her toward a war she knew nothing about and teaches her the meaning of sacrifice.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

Quinn never wondered what the end of one life's chapters would look like as she looked back toward her childhood friend, Amata, for the final time. The utter trepidation from her motionless peer mixed with quiet intrigue that made her hesitate to continue. The foreboding cog-like door screeched as it closed, the final remnants of her youth shut behind tons of steel and concrete before her eyes. The gush of air hissing as it slid into place set her back along with the disorienting ringing in her ears that reverberated to her bones.

The warning klaxons dissipated, the last dying breath of her childhood falling to the wayside before her eyes. She slipped her cap on and made her way to the glowing embers of daylight ahead of her. The warmth creeping from the slots in the door made her arms prickle with exhilaration as she reached the knob. She didn't know what she was going to find beyond the rickety shield, but she knew what she was looking for that drove her from her home.

She held her breath and stepped into the world, a foreigner in a land that time seemed to freeze. It was humid, and breezy, the sunlight bathed her in blinding light as her eyes slowly adjusted to the natural illumination. She took several steps and peered over the matchstick houses that sprawled before her. The world smelled so different compared to the cold tomb that was the vault. It was sterile, cold, unfeeling, but in the openness of the landscape, she could feel life under the ashen piles that marked a once thriving suburb.

Her Pip-Boy chirped and a wave of static flew through the air. She dialed it back and looked around cautiously as she walked the abandoned streets. The smell of smoke lingered heavily in the air and the soft jingle of chains wafted carelessly in the noonday sun. She heard the clopping of hooves on the concrete before her. Bringing her hand up to shield her eyes, she saw two people armed and looking at her most curiously. The large pack animal between them stared at her with its four large eyes.

Quinn smiled weakly and approached the people with hidden apprehension. The greeted her warmly and sized her up. She could tell that they were curious about her as well and saw her as new to the Wasteland as a newborn straight from the womb.

"I'm looking for my father. Have you seen him?" she questioned softly.

The two men looked at each other, questioning the other with looks and then stating that they had not.

"You should try, Megaton. It's just over the hill and to the right. They might know about him," one of them stated.

"Thank you, then," she replied and continued walking.

"If you need anything, just let one of the caravan drivers know. They might be able to set you up with some items. Or if you see me again, I can set you up as well," the man said with a warm smile.

"I'll do that, thank you, again," Quinn uttered with a smirk.

The man tipped his hat to her and continued walking in the opposite direction. Quinn looked toward the horizon and the large structure that barely peeked over the hill ahead. The subtle creek of steel drove her closer to an answer and she hoped that she wouldn't have to travel too far into the wasteland to find her father; she just wanted to know why he'd left her without a word and left her holding the bag with the Overseer.

No matter how curious she'd been about the outside world, this brown and dusty place wasn't what she'd pictured in her imagination. Even as she approached the settlement, her breath bated as she pressed the door open and slid through, she felt that the task at hand was going to end far before it began and wherever her father was, she hoped that he was alright.


	2. The Price of Information

Quinn could taste the dust on the air as she licked her lips and stared down into the steep crater that was Megaton. In the middle of it stood a monument, or so she thought, that had rendered the town's namesake. People bustled around from place to place, unaware of the stranger that was in there amidst and she was grateful. She didn't want to draw unneeded attention to herself than was necessary.

She wiped the beading sweat from her brow and took a deep breath. The resilience of humanity was a curious endeavor to behold. After bombs falling and the massive amounts of radiation, people persevered and made good of a bad situation in the best way they could. Mountains of corrugated steel walls creaked in the breeze. She could see the moon peeking from behind a sliver of grey clouds.

"Huh," a man muttered as he approached. "It's a rare event that we get two strangers in town in close succession."

Quinn glanced at the man before her and crooked her eyebrow. She removed her cap and met the man in the middle. She looked him over and saw the sheriff's badge on the duster he wore. He tipped his hat politely and extended his hand to her in greeting. She accepted it grateful to find someone of authority that she could question.

"I'm looking for my father. Have you seen him?" Quinn stated.

The sheriff shook his head and looked back towards the sprawling metal scaffolding.

"I did, but didn't speak with him. He made a beeline for Moriarty's," he replied as he pointed to the top level with the large sign above it. "You're best bet is to talk to him, but a word of advice: don't cause trouble and don't let Moriarty get reeled into anything."

"That's fine," Quinn said with a shrug.

The sheriff turned back to her with a smile and looked her over. The smile faded after a few seconds and stared intently at her.

"You're bleeding. You should get that looked at," he remarked.

Quinn didn't bother looking at it and uttered that it wasn't hers.

"Are you sure?" he pressed with a harder look at her arm.

She followed his glance to the large tear in her gear. The slow trickle of red bled into the fabric turning it a deep purple. It trailed down her arm and dripped on to her pants and boots. She splayed her fingers over the hole to get a better look at it. She bit her lip as the large bleeding line opened slightly under the gentle pressure she applied.

"Shit," she muttered under her breath.

"Rough start from the vault, apparently," the sheriff remarked with a scowl.

"You don't know the half of it," Quinn smirked.

"Well, I hope it didn't follow you. We don't need that here," the sheriff grumbled.

"It won't," Quinn insisted with a backwards glance toward the door. She pressed her hand over the wound and nodded. "I guess, I'll talk to Moriarty about my father. Thanks, Sheriff…"

"Simms. Lucas Simms," he said with a nod.

"Sheriff Simms," she continued.

"Good luck finding your father," Simms stated. "And don't forget to get that gunshot wound looked at."

"Thanks," Quinn replied.

She walked down the embankment and into the center of town. People spoke in hushed whispers all around her as she examined the giant bomb in front of her. Something seemed off about the Old World device that jutted from the ground. It electrified the air, the smell of ionization was thick as she drew closer to it and placed her hand on to casing. It vibrated beneath her finger tips and hummed gently. Her head whipped around at all the bystanders watching her. She didn't think they realized how much danger they were in when it came to the amount of radiation this thing was emanating. Her Geiger was ticking off as she stood there and she took a step back.

The preacher nearby spewed his words into the dimming late afternoon air. The words of those of a person of blind faith about something they knew nothing about. She was smart enough to know that this wasn't a tool of good will. It was a bomb, meant for destruction and as luck would have it failed to detonate. It wasn't safe at all and as she looked at the cracked casing knew that it would only be a matter of time before the thing decided that it was ready to go off.

"These people are crazy," she said to herself as she continued walking up the large ramp towards the bar.

A man in leather armor stared at her and then at the blood oozing from between her fingers and snorted disapprovingly.

"Raiders?" he questioned.

"Vault security," she replied nonchalantly.

He looked at her in amusement and pointed back to the bottom of the hole in the ground.

"Doc's that way," he muttered.

"It's alright. I'll take care of it myself," Quinn answered.

She sat in a chair nearby and searched through her pouch pocket for a needle, thread and antiseptic. She pulled her arm out of the sleeve, sucking in harshly as her arm maneuvered through the thick fabric. The guy she spoke with watched her as she threaded the needle and pierced the tattered edge of flesh. She let out a groan of pain. Her hand began to tremble violently as she took up the other side and slid the needle through. Her throat grew dry and her head began to swim as she worked. Sweat dripped from her brow as she worked. She'd done stitches before on others, but never on herself and not for this type of wound.

"Here," the guy remarked handing her a cigarette. "It'll take the edge off."

"Ummm," she started through waves of dizziness.

"It's alright. If these don't kill you infection from that there wound or radiation will do it," he stated with a frown.

Quinn took the cigarette from him and placed it to her lips. He lit a match and instructed her to inhale as he lit it. She did as she was told and was rewarded with a dizzying fiery sensation in her chest. She coughed violently sending the man in to insane laughter.

"What the hell is that," she sputtered through coughs.

"It's not bad," he replied. "Try again, just this time: slower."

So she did it again. The pain was still there, her eyes watered, but her hands didn't shake as bad. Another drag and her fingers worked around the damage created. She pulled the thread taut and snipped away the ends. The cigarette jutted from her lips as she poured on the foul smelling antiseptic. She watched the bubbling turn a bright pink and then washed it away with some water. She wrapped it with gauze and pulled her arm back into the sleeve.

Quinn gave the guy a quick look and stood, dusting off the debris from the wind.

"Do you know Moriarty?" she asked.

"Yeah, dirty bastard," he replied in annoyance. "If you're here to see him, then you better get inside. I'll buy you a round."

Quinn thanked him and headed into the bar. It smelled of vomit and stale beer. The floor creaked under her feet as she approached the counter. A disfigured man stood watching her suspiciously, but came to her as if nothing was bothering him.

"What'll you have," he asked, wiping a shot glass clean.

"Information, if you have it," Quinn replied.

The man abruptly stopped and squinted at her. She didn't understand why he was looking at her like that, but she sat motionless on the stool and waited for him to say something. He stiffened and placed the glass down behind the counter.

"You're not going to yell at me?" he questioned with a look of confusion.

"No, why would I?" she asked back. "I don't even know you."

He exhaled sharply and placed his hands on the counter. Shaking his head, he grabbed a nearby bottle of whiskey and shot glass and set it before her. He unscrewed the cap and poured it into the glass. He gave a quick glance over his shoulder and slid the drink towards her.

"Talk to Moriarty. I don't need to be getting into any more shit with him," he whispered harshly.

"Who are you harassing now, Gob? Give them their damn drink and get back to work," and older man spat as he drew closer to them.

Gob apologized and went to work wiping down the far end of the bar.

"I'm guessing your Moriarty," Quinn said with a crook of the eyebrow.

"Aye, that I am lass," Moriarty replied folding his arms in front of him. "What's it to you?"

"I'm looking for my father. The sheriff said you may have spoken with him," Quinn continued.

Moriarty just looked at her silently. She watched his eyes move over her in curious circuits. The gears of money were working hard at putting a price on her as she waited. She placed her hand on her sidearm and cleared her throat to snap him from his thoughts.

"You're the wee babe. It's been years," Moriarty chirped when he realized who it was. "Look at you! You're all grown up now. Aye, I've seen your father. He stopped in not long before you did. He wasn't here long."

"Do you know where he went?" Quinn pressed.

"I do," Moriarty replied. "But you realize, information is a commodity, and it does come at a price."

"What do you want?" Quinn grumbled, her eyes falling to the counter.

"Two hundred," Moriarty stated with a smug look.

"Right, I'll get on that," Quinn said with a sigh; followed by, "This is bullshit." She peered through the veil of black bangs at him and scowled. "Do you have a room?"

"Do you want company?" Moriarty chimed.

"No. A bed and nothing else," Quinn snapped. She reached for the glass of whiskey and slammed it back. "No company."

"One twenty," he said with a sneer.

She opened up a small pouch, counted the small caps, and threw them on the counter. Moriarty pointed to the stairs and returned to his work. Quinn thanked Gob and headed for the room. Her body ached. Her stomach grumbled and all she wanted to do was sleep. She knew that the next day or so was going to be hell and if she was going to get to her father she was going to have to go to hell and back just to get a bead on him.

He shouldn't have done this, she thought to herself as she closed the door behind her and flopped on the bed. She stared at the ceiling, the first couple of tears slid from her eyes, blurring her vision. It could have been anything that had set her off: pain, exhaustion, worry, stress. All of it was accumulating into something she didn't think was possible.

"Dad," she said softly to herself. "Where are you?"


	3. 4 A.M.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Letter From Dad" credit to Bethesda. Since it is in-game.

Quinn stirred from her sleep to the slow dirge of her Pip-Boy's alarm. Eyes blurry with exhaustion, she wiped the remaining sleep from them and sat up on the edge of the bed. The building creaked around her as she stretched the aches from her battered body. It was eerily quiet in the bar below as she adjusted herself and flipped the alarm off. A small cursor blipped on the screen, urging her to look at what was awaiting her.

She pressed the small dot and saw a message on her screen. The name glowed up at her brightly. She had remembered grabbing it on her way out, but with the chaos going on in the Vault, she didn't think it was the right time to listen to it. She pressed the button and listened to the voice on the recording.

_"I… I don't really know how to tell you this. I hope you'll understand, but I know you might be angry. I thought about it for a long time, but in the end I decided it was best for you not to know."_

Quinn frowned instantly and placed a cigarette to her lips. Hell yes I'm angry, she thought. She pulled the small photograph of her and her father out of her pocket and stared at it. She felt betrayed that the person she had relied on had been nothing but a stranger.

She shook her head and blew out the hot smoke as it continued:

_"So many things could have gone wrong and there's really no telling how the Overseer will react when he finds out. It's best if he can blame everything on me. Obviously you already know I'm gone. It was something I needed to do."_

"He reacted badly, Dad," she growled out loud as if he was in the room. She looked at the stitches in her arm. "And he didn't. He took it out on everyone."

_"You're an adult now. You're ready to be on your own."_

Just because I'm adult doesn't mean I don't need you still, she thought, extinguishing the cigarette under her heel.

"But you never thought of that, did you?" she queried at her arm with a morose tone.

_"Maybe someday things will change and we can see each other again. I can't tell you why I left or where I am going. I don't want you to follow me. God knows life in the vault isn't perfect, but at least you'll be safe. Just knowing that will be enough to keep me going._

"I didn't have a choice in that matter, Dad. It was stay and die or leave and die," she murmured. "I figured my chances were greater on the outside by comparison. But I am going to find you. I don't even know who you are anymore and I have to know."

_"I love you."_

"Love you, too, Dad," she said softly. "No matter what."

She switched off the Pip-Boy and let the stinging tears slip down her face. She figured she'd earned the right for it. She grieved; the heavy melancholy stewed in her gut as she paced around the room. Her eyes were fixated on the picture in her hand. The few tears that had escaped her had landed on the photograph. She folded it up and put it back in her pouch with a small good-bye hanging on her lips. Her resolve waned; her doubts and fears ate at her as she thought about what she was going to do about getting the information from Moriarty. He was a sociopathic son of a bitch and she wanted to deal with him as little as possible.

XXXXX

Quinn opened the door to her room and poked her head out to see if anyone was around. The doors were all closed, the soft sounds of sleeping reverberated through the building. She stepped out of the room and on to the landing. The door next to hers opened and standing in the frame was Gob. He stared at her silently and smiled.

"Morning," Quinn said as she flashed a weak smile.

He returned the greeting and headed toward the stairs. As he drew closer he clutched her wrist in his large hand firmly. Her eyes shot to the restrained appendage and back to the ghoul beside her. His clouded eyes looked her over with increasing intensity.

"Moriarty's got you running circles," Gob hissed. He gave a quick look over the railing and returned his gaze to her. "Don't be another whore to this bastard. Nova and I are in deep. Don't sink to that level."

"What else is there for me to do?" Quinn questioned.

Gob licked his lips and pulled her closer to him and whispered in her ear, "Moriarty has a log on his computer about the goings-on here. After your dad left, Moriarty updated it."

Quinn's eyes widened at the implication.

"What's in it for you?" she queried.

"If it means seeing that bastard squirm a little, then that is enough of a reward," the ghoul smirked sheepishly.

"Yeah, but if he finds out that you helped me he's going to kill you," Quinn interjected with a look of concern.

"He's beat me for less," Gob replied almost nonchalantly. "Just find your father. Get the hell out of here." The ghoul again looked over the railing cautiously and then the girl beside him. "He should still be asleep."

Quinn nodded that she understood and he released his grasp of her. They exchanged glances and headed down stairs. Gob pointed to the back room silently and she followed slipping past Moriarty who was sound asleep in his bed. He stirred once, rattling her to a stop. She watched him for a moment to see if he was going to awaken, but he remained still.

Hurrying to the computer, she saw that it was locked. The screen flickered brightly, asking for a password she didn't have. Her eyes darted to Gob who had been watching her as he went about his routine. She let out a heavy sigh and began working to get the next piece of her puzzle. She bit her lip as she worked, the light growing brighter in the windows with each attempt to bypass the block. She glimpsed Moriarty out of the corner of her eye beginning to rise. Her fingers scrambled across the keyboard and pressed enter. She opened up the file and saw a note about her father in it. She entered and saw the answer glowing before her eyes: "Galaxy News Radio."

She shutdown the computer and went back to the front of the establishment. She smiled that she'd gotten what she needed and thanked Gob for his help. As she opened the door to leave she turned back to the ghoul and asked where Galaxy News Radio was. The ghoul's jaw tensed slightly at the question.

"In the DC area. Is that where you are going next?" he asked with a soft growl.

Quinn nodded and looked outside as the first rays of light topped the rusty walls. The coolness of the morning was inviting and in the distance she could hear the town coming to life from its slumber.

"Is it far?" she hurriedly questioned, her sunglasses sliding down her face.

"You'll need to enter the Metro. I'd be carefully, you won't be alone in there," Gob warned.

"Understood. I'll see you around, okay?" Quinn said with a brighter smile.

She hurried from the bar and down the ramp to where the bomb laid in waiting. She stopped when the familiar humming hit her. She looked around the bomb at the people that were beginning to emerge from their homes and sighed. This is an accident waiting to happen, she thought as she ran her hands around the panel that housed the detonator. She unscrewed it and looked around it, her eyes fixating on the small mechanical parts housed in its sturdy shell. When she found what she was looking for she pulled a small chip from its socket and stuck it in her pocket.

The preacher she had seen the night before was just coming down the ramp as she closed up the hatch and walked away. Up the hill, Sheriff Simms stood on the embankment with a small smile on his face. She pulled the chip from her pocket and handed it to him.

"It shouldn't be a problem anymore," she replied.

"Thank you kindly, ma'am," Simms remarked as he tipped his hat. "If you ever come back this way you'll always have a place to stay here. I'll make certain of that."

"Thanks," Quinn said as she continued toward the gate.

Simms turned to her and wished her luck on her search; again she thanked him and closed the gate behind her. She placed her hand on her side arm and breathed a sigh of relief. She looked at her Pip-Boy's map and saw that the trek was going to be a long and tiring one, but if it put her that much closer to her father it was a path that she was willing to tread.


	4. The Wake of Devastation

Quinn exited the Metro line in to the fading afternoon sun. She gulped the fresh air and looked down into the pit she had crawled from. The smell of burning and decay was infinitely more pleasant than the vile filth she had found herself crawling in for hours. She was tired, dirty, and thirsty. Her injured arm refused to move when she tried to bring up her Pip-Boy to get her bearings. She growled in annoyance and leaned against the wall. She wiped the sweat from her brow and caught her breath; all the while she kept an ear out for creatures.

The big ones were the worst, she would have been thrilled to not have to deal with them again, but from the scattered reports she'd heard on the radio, she was in the heart of their territory with no real help anywhere to be seed. She'd followed the signs left scrawled on the walls to the Metro entrance she now stood in, yet found only monsters and raiders in the hellhole they called a route.

She took a sip of water and swore under her breath that she had better be near the GNR building. She brought her Pip-Boy to her life and examined her map. The marker flickered quickly that she was easily within walking distance of her target. She smiled in relief that she wouldn't have to walk in the darkness, surrounded by the broken bones of the city. So much of it was blocked off and destroyed that to search for another route would have been tantamount to suicide.

She slung her assault rifle over her shoulder and began walking up the stairs. The few evening stars faintly twinkled in the evening sky. She could smell smoke, taste the concrete dust, her ears picked up distant gunfire; her eyes squinted at the new surroundings of tattered stone as she approached a sign marking the tunnels to the subway system. She ran her finger along the path to where she had come out and let out a sigh. She had gone far and knew that it would take the better part of a day to get out of the war torn remains of DC.

Not far off she heard movement; she peered around the side of the sign and saw two super mutants lumbering towards her. She gasped and slammed her back against the thin cover. Her eyes darted around for something more secure, but found nothing. She pulled her rifle in front of her and crouched down to take them down. Her finger fell on the trigger and just as she was about to squeeze gunshots rang out from the opposite direction.

Quinn saw people firing at the mutants before her. She fired off several shots when she realized that the crossfire would have easily killed the creatures that had taken their attention off of her and to the armor clad soldiers. She watched as one fell with a large growl, the other staggered back before lobbing a small projectile in their direction. The explosion rattled the ground and set up huge plumes of dust into the air. She continued to fire at the super mutant and in within a few moments it slumped against a wall.

She held her breath as she stuck her head out from cover. The only thing she saw was a woman with blond hair staring at her from across the way. Quinn slung her gun and approached the super mutant and kicked it in the foot to make sure it was indeed dead. When she was satisfied the bastard wasn't going to get up again, she approached the soldiers that were now talking amongst themselves.

"What the hell are you doing out here?" the blond snapped. "Are you trying to get yourself killed?"

Quinn took out a cigarette placed it to her lips and snorted, "Hardly." The woman glared at her as she lit it and looked around. "I'm looking for Galaxy News Radio."

The woman's stern look softened and turned to the armored soldier beside her. She ordered them to meet up with the others and then returned to Quinn with her arms crossed.

"I'm Sarah. My squad and I are headed back that way. You can come with us as long as you listen to what we tell you. This whole damn place is swarming with these bastards and I don't need anyone dying on my watch," she said with point in the direction the other soldier had gone.

Quinn nodded and followed Sarah down the small, narrow alley where she met up with the rest of the squad. She saw the broken body of a soldier lying on the ground surrounded by another man. Rapid gunfire alerted her to a firefight and she held herself close to the building they were hiding behind.

"Colvin, report," Sarah barked to the fully armored soldier nearest the corner.

"Place is loaded with these muties," the soldier replied. He glanced over his shoulder and straightened slightly. "New recruit?"

"Just a stray. She's on her way to the base. Figured she could tag along," Sarah answered.

He lifted a hand and gave her a brief wave.

"Welcome," he chimed.

Sarah looked at Quinn and pointed between her and Colvin. He gave the stranger a quick once over and began to walk at steady clip. Quinn felt a heavy hand fall on her shoulder. She turned back to Sarah who ordered her to stay with Colvin "no matter what". She returned to walking with him until they came upon a blown out school. He put his hand out to stop her from continuing and shooed Quinn behind him. She crouched behind him as he sighted down on the movement ahead.

"How many?" Sarah murmured.

"It's hard to tell from this vantage point," Colvin answered. Quinn could hear him grumbling and then "four or five just near the entrance. I'm guessing there's plenty more behind that wall."

"How far are we from GNR?" Quinn asked.

"It's through that school," Colvin replied. "You walked into a veritable shit storm."

"I see," Quinn said as she extinguished her cigarette.

Colvin put up a finger, stopping her from saying anything else and fired. The sound cracked through the air almost deafeningly. The squad launched its attack in mass with Quinn hot on their heels firing up at the super mutants above. She kept an eye on Colvin as they rounded the stairs to the second floor of the school. The sound of gunfire was everywhere. Sarah was calling out for people's positions and then ordered Colvin and Quinn to stay up top.

They ran across the wooden planks towards the sniper's perch and unloaded on the mutants below. Colvin muttered to himself as he fired, while Quinn lobbed a grenade at a pair of mutants toting large guns. The blast knocked the duo back, but didn't stop them from firing on everyone. Tracers flew across the darkened courtyard until they heard Sarah call the all clear.

Gasping for breath, Quinn slid down the wall and rested her head on her knees. She was terrified, exhilarated, every bit of adrenaline her body could afford had been pumped into her veins. She shook violently as she took a cigarette out and lit it. She took a drag and blew it out before looking over at Colvin who was watching through his scope.

"Are you alright?" he asked, not taking his eyes off the field.

"Yeah," Quinn replied. She flicked her ash and checked her magazine to see how much ammunition she had left. "You?"

"Fine," Colvin answered.

They sat in silence for few moments, listening to the chatter down below. Quinn stood up, looked out the window and saw the GNR sign lit up by the bonfires that dotted the ground. Before she could take two steps away from the window she heard Colvin mutter something. His tone shook her. She turned to see what he was looking at, but before she could get a look Colvin threw her to the ground with him on top of her. A large explosion flew shrapnel and fire everywhere. A large piece of steel stuck out from the concrete where she had been standing just moments before.

She let out a gasp of pain as his armor dug into her. Colvin pressed up on his hands, looked down at her briefly and grabbed his rifle. Large, even thuds shook the ground and followed with the unleashing of gunfire. Quinn grabbed her assault rifle and found that it had been blown to the bottom floor.

"Shit!" she yelped.

She hopped off the ledge to the barely audible sounds of Colvin yelling at her. She looked up at her protector, frowned, and turned to the hulking behemoth feet away. She picked up her assault rifle and squeezed the trigger. Nothing happened. She pulled the gun in front of her in a panic and saw it was jammed. Fuck, she thought, not now!

She saw a nearby rifle and picked it up. She fired it quickly to draw its attention away from Sarah. She heard Sarah yelling, Colvin barking for her to get out of there, but she kept moving. The lumbering giant swung at her with its makeshift club sending huge clouds of dust into the air. Quinn staggered back several feet before Colvin got a shot off that turned the brute's attention to him.

Several soldiers appeared on the balcony of the GNR building and let loose a cascade of ammunition on the behemoth. It reared its head back in anger and slammed the ground. It lumbered over to Sarah and raised its club to bring it down on top of her. Quinn saw time slow down, her heart raced as she sighted down on the giant and squeezed the trigger. The mutant lurched forward and fell down just feet from Sarah.

Quinn dropped the gun in front of her and shook. She could taste blood in her mouth and saw the numerous cuts ripped into her armor. She flopped to the ground, out of breath and in pain. Her hands moved around her torso but found no holes that were dangerous. She pulled off her jacket and saw the large bruise on her ribs. The black mark grew as she pressed gently on the bones. She felt little resistance and let out a cry that had Colvin hurrying to her. She let out a weak laugh and sputtered blood on to the ground.

"I'm fine," she groaned.

The knight knelt in front of her and moved the flap of her jacket aside. He hoisted her up into his arms without a word and carried her to the steps of the building against her protests. She could barely keep her eyes open as he pressed the door open and stepped inside the building. He hurried her to a far room and laid her on the bed.

The last thing she saw in her pained stupor was him removing his helmet. The sounds trickled in waves of voices calling for a medic. Her body felt like it was being lifted and placed and the only thing she thought was: close, but not close enough.


	5. Temporarily Pacified

Quinn lifted her hand to her face and let out a soft groan. Cool sweat dampened her palm as she swept away the plastered hair from her face. A gentle breeze caressed her shoulders sending a shiver down her spine. Her eyes fluttered open and were obscured by the rapidly flashing swirls of narcotics. She could hear the clink of metal, the auditory release of air as she lay on her back. A cold hand grasped her wrist gently and the soft sounds of being hushed rushed by her.

She inhaled sharply the sting and ache as she breathed awoke her violently. The sweet, metallic taste of blood hung in her mouth and grew in intensity when she dampened her lips. She felt her head being lifted and chilled glass press against her lips. Cool water flowed into her mouth, quenching the parched flesh when she swallowed.

"What happened?" Quinn asked weakly.

She turned her gaze to the person beside her and winced as she tried to sit up. She looked at the large swathes of gauze wrapped around her midsection and frowned. She remembered the black bruise that had formed, the difficulty she had when breathing and let out a gentle sigh. Her eyes fell upon the armored man and repeated the question. She was met with awkward silence and the helm's face turned toward the floor.

"It's my fault," Colvin's voice replied.

Quinn's eyebrow furrowed as she recounted what had happened. He'd thrown himself on top of her, to shield her from an explosion. It was the incredible pain she felt when he was on top of her, the way he looked at her when he was getting up. They both knew what had happened, but the behemoth wasn't going to give them a chance to fix it. It was a fight to the death, adrenaline was high. It couldn't be helped. He had tried to save her that was what mattered then and she was, in fact, very much alive.

"It's alright," she grumbled, placing her hand on his. "You were doing your job. And I was already a liability."

Her voice trailed off as she swung her feet over the edge of the bed. Her head swayed back and forth, her breathing was labored as she tried to stand. Colvin stood to catch her as her legs buckled under the weight and drugs. She fell into him, smacking the cold, unforgiving metal of his armor. She let out a growl of frustration as his arm wrapped around her waist.

"Take it easy," he warned. His free hand searched behind him and pulled forth her gear. "You've been out of it for a few days."

Quinn looked up at him with care and took her clothes from him. She pulled her jacket on, wincing with every movement her torso made and frowned. Days had passed? How many? How far had it set her back from finding her Dad? He set her on the corner of the bed. He stood over her motionless for a moment, before cupping her chin with his finger and apologizing again.

She pulled her sunglasses out and placed them on her face. She could hear him sigh and nervously excused himself. He stopped in the doorway of the small room and turned back to her. The silence between them was deafening and the worry hung heavily on him.

"I have to go on patrol," he stated hesitantly. "Three Dog has been anxiously waiting to see you."

Quinn smiled and thanked him before looking at her Pip-Boy. She listened to the shuffling armor move away and she when she felt alone she flipped it on. She didn't know what she was looking for, something to calm her nerves, possibly, but she found nothing. She looked at the time and sighed. It was late evening and in her gut, she worried about the patrol that was gathering near the front door.

Something lit a fire in her and she shot from the bed, staggered toward the door and peered out. They all looked the same in their armor; she couldn't tell them apart. One by one they filed out of the building except for one that lingered just a little longer than the rest. He gave her a nod and pointed for the door.

"Be careful out there," she muttered to him.

He nodded silently and walked out the door. Quinn saw the other soldier's staring at her. She cleared her throat and acted as harmless as possible, only to be met with the vacant stares of the people in the room.

"He's upstairs," a man from the mezzanine stated.

Quinn nodded and taking diligent steps walked to the second floor. The man who spoke stepped aside and opened the door for her politely and returned to his work. Quinn was alone in the long corridor, she could hear talking up ahead followed it up another flight of stairs. Behind a large soundboard was a man with a warm smile. He spoke into the microphone and then flipped a switch. He waved her over and leaned back in his chair.

"I heard you had a helluva time with those super mutants the other day," he said, looking over the rims of his glasses.

"I did," Quinn answered as she sat in a nearby chair. "You must be Three Dog."

"I am," Three Dog beamed and rocked in his chair. "And you must be James' kid."

"I am," she replied. Three Dog took a pack of cigarettes out of his pocket and placed a stick in his mouth. "Have you seen him? Do you know where he went?"

Three Dog raised a hand to stop her and lit his smoke. He exhaled and offered her one. She took it and as he lit it for her cleared his throat and answered, "I have."

"Well, where did he go?" Quinn chirped.

"Slow down, child, old Three Dog needs something from you first," he remarked.

Quinn's eyebrow quirked at his answer and she leaned back in the chair. She wasn't amused. It seems everyone wants something from me, she thought as she glared. He looked at his soundboard and flipped another switch. He refused to say anything, but kept working as if she wasn't there.

"Fine. What is it?" she spat angrily.

"I need a new dish. The signal isn't getting as far as it used to. Stupid mutant thought it would be funny to take pot shots at ours," Three Dog said without looking at her.

"Okay?" Quinn replied with a shrug.

"Some of the Brotherhood saw one in the Museum of Technology. You'll need to get to the Mall and then install it," he continued. "You do that and I'll tell you where your dad went."

"Sounds easy enough," she stated as she exhaled.

Three Dog turned to her with a strange look on his face. He shook his head and told her that the Mall was a nest for Super Mutants. Quinn scoffed at the idea. She didn't want to traipse through their territory just for the info, but as he watched her shift uncomfortably in her seat, she nodded. Her hands were tied, there was nothing she could do about it now.

She rose from her seat and said, "I'll leave first thing in the morning."

Three Dog said it was fine and that he hoped to see her again in one piece.

Quinn walked down the stairs on to the mezzanine and leaned over the rail. The Brotherhood stood idly by as she returned to her room. She lay on the bed and flipped on her Pip-Boy. Her eyes narrowed on her map as she plotted her destination out. It looked like it was going to be a few days journey if things didn't go to hell, but considering how this whole damn thing started it was going to be anything but an uneventful jaunt to the museum.

She switched to the recording of her father and listened to it play. She needed some sort of balance and the recording – even if it was bittersweet – gave her solace that she was doing the right thing. She needed to find her dad, not to yell at him and accuse him of abandoning her to her fate, but to tell him that she was sorry for the things she had said the night he left.


	6. Lost 'til Found

GNR Building 0045

It had been three days since the girl had left to run Three Dog's errand. Knight Captain Colvin heard the sound of music ringing clearly through the night sky as he walked up the steps to the outpost. His brothers-in-arms were weary from their patrol and most chimed on about being glad to be back in a "relatively" safe spot. A couple stated they would be hitting the sack as soon as they got inside.

He sympathized with them. It had been a difficult patrol for them that eve. They were under fire several times in places they thought had been cleared out. Luckily, they hadn't received any casualties and he was relieved that the report he was going to give Sentinel Lyons was going to be positive for the most part. He did wonder about the status of his former charge and if she had made it back in one piece.

He opened the door to the building and was greeted to the sweet sounds of Billie Holiday crooning a sad melody. Sentinel Lyons was coming down the stairs with a smile on her face. She seemed pre-occupied by something else, but as he stood at attention, she stopped and looked him over.

"Report?" Lyons asked flatly.

"Hardly uneventful. The mutants are getting brazen in their attacks and a couple of the areas that we thought were clear are filled again," he answered. "They seem to be coming out of the woodwork now, but we sent them to their final resting place."

"Damn it. We have no idea where they are coming from," she growled, running her fingers through her flaxen hair. "Casualties?"

"None," Colvin replied.

The look on Lyons' face softened at the positive news. Her eyes shifted left and right before looking at him. She definitely had a look of amusement and hesitation on her face as she excused him. Colvin saluted and began to walk towards the barracks when she stopped him.

"Quinn made it back," the sentinel remarked. Colvin cocked his head curiously and held his breath. "She's on the upper balcony, if you want to see her." He looked in the direction of the door and nodded his head. As he was heading past his commanding officer, she put his hand on his shoulder. "She's leaving tomorrow. I know you are sensitive about certain things, but I would prefer it if you kept things as neutral as possible."

Colvin nodded again and continued up to the balcony. Again he heard music in the distance. He looked for speakers around the outside and saw none. He followed the catwalk and saw her sitting up against a wall, her leg swaying over the edge carelessly. She seemed fixated on a piece of paper in front of her. The small light of her cigarette brightened and disappeared. She flicked the ash over the side and looked up at him. He stopped dead in his tracks, unable to think about what to do next.

"When did you get back?" she asked, turning down the music.

"I just did," Colvin replied, taking his place beside her.

He looked at the photograph in her hand and then to her. Behind her sunglasses he could see numerous thoughts flooding into her eyes. Pictures were a rare thing, but he saw this one scrap of the past as more sentimental for her than just standard nostalgia of strangers. Small dried tear stains dotted the occupants that stared up at her. Smiles of happier times beamed through the black and white portrait as if her whole life was for show in that moment.

"I didn't get to thank you for saving me," Quinn murmured, taking a drag off of her cigarette.

"It's part of the job," Colvin replied nonchalantly.

Quinn nodded, expelling the smoke into the wind and sighed, "Yeah."

"Where are you going tomorrow?" he questioned.

He looked at the picture as intensely as she was and saw that the child was her. The man was obviously her father. He hadn't remembered seeing him, even though some of the other knights had said he did come through to speak with Three Dog.

"Rivet City," she said abruptly with a glance in his direction. She folded the photo and placed it in her pocket. She smiled faintly at something and put her cigarette out. "Strange."

"What is?" he queried.

"I was wondering what you looked like under there," she answered. A zephyr of cold air rushed passed them. She wrapped her arms around herself and shuddered. "Now I know."

Three Dog's voice cracked through on the speaker and spoke jovially about Quinn and what she had done for him. They both looked down at her Pip-Boy and listened to his pleas for James to find her. Colvin looked at her, concerned by what had brought her out into the hellish world. Slowly, the few tears she'd been holding back slipped down her cheeks. He felt helpless to do anything but watch as the pain and loss ate at her.

She was still a child lost in a world she wasn't prepared for. People would use someone like her because of her naiveté and he commiserated with it. If he'd had his way he wouldn't have allowed it, but he knew that that wasn't the way the world worked. It was live or die, and you learned to be cynical but not let it destroy you.

When the news report ended, he looked at the troops posted on the other balcony. They were pointing out into the courtyard. He followed their sight and saw the behemoth's body sprawled out. He pictured where Quinn was in proximity to the beast and frowned. If either of them had faltered in their assault Sentinel Lyons very well could have been dead. Yet, if she hadn't been in search of her father, things would have gone badly. She had just given them the edge they needed to bring it down. He wanted to thank her for it but she was passive about it even then.

"You seem lost," Colvin stated.

Quinn chuckled meekly and took out a cigarette.

"That's the biggest understatement of the century," she replied. "I wasn't cut out for this life. I was training to be a doctor before I left the Vault. I wanted to heal people and since I've been out here I've done anything but."

"Not true," Colvin argued. "You helped bring down that beast down there. We heard about Megaton and what you did there. You've done a lot. Your father would be proud."

"You think so?" Quinn chirped. She let out a yawn and stood up. Colvin followed her and peered down at her thoughtfully. "My father wanted me to stay in the Vault. I didn't have a choice in staying or going. Everyone took it away."

"But you are here now. And you'll find your father. I'm not a betting man, but if I was, I'd say you'll do it," he remarked.

She looked up at him and slid her sunglass to the top of her head. She got on her toes and gently kissed his cheek. The tender show of affection rattled his center in a way that hadn't been touched in a long time. She took a step back and uttered a thank you before passing him by. He watched her leave, her boots scuffling the concrete as she moved, the sway of her hips, everything just moved in perfect rhythm with each other.

When the door closed behind her, he leaned against the railing and ran his fingers through his hair. He was conflicted between his orders from Sentinel Lyons and that lust he'd thought he'd lost. He shook his head and let out an exaggerated chuckle. He was old enough to be her father and that should have been enough for him to stop the idea from proceeding, but it did nothing to assuage his desire. He was willing to follow her lead where ever it was going to take him. He'd found himself feeling human, not just a tool of the Brotherhood, but as a person that could possibly…

He shook off the thought, grabbed his helmet and went inside. He passed the room she was sleeping in and smiled. He didn't know who was more lost, him or her, but either way, they had both been found.


	7. Hindsight and Forethought

Quinn sat at a large table hunched over a pile of electronic components. She adjusted her glasses and stuck her tongue out as she unscrewed a bolt on the camera. Her fingers –wrapped in gauze – were sticky with blood and made dislodging the difficult nut impossible. She growled in frustration and tossed the piece of scrap on to the table in a huff. Her mind raced with thoughts; the small distraction of rebuilding something would have helped distract her from the wandering ideas that lingered in her head after she had left the GNR building.

She ran her fingers through her hair, snagging a lone piece of hair in a sliver on her knuckle. She sucked in air and placed her finger in her mouth. Her father had always warned her against doing those kinds of things, but it was a habit she couldn't seem to break. She would have welcomed the scolding at that point that the sheer idea of it made her smile.

An old woman approached her setting a small plate of vittles in front of her and sighed. She shook her head and sat across the table from her. Her tired eyes watched Quinn as she looked between the camera parts strewn about and the sustenance that urged her to eat. She brought her hands to her face and let out a small chuckle.

"You remind me of my boys: always distracted by anything they could get their hands on, but not giving themselves the time to take care of themselves," she remarked with a small smile.

Quinn looked up at her, in a daze of thoughts and memories, and smirked. She had always been that way. Her dad was the same: easily distracted by the next task, never willing to just sit and take things slow. Her smile faded as she thought about her father; the late nights he'd stay awake working on God knows what, putting distance between them. In hindsight, she realized that he was weaning her off of his presence, in preparation for what he was about to do. Or maybe it wasn't just about her, but him as well. They only had each other and even from the message he'd left for her, she could sense the hesitation in his voice.

"Maybe it's genetic," Quinn replied, trying to hide the tumultuous emotions brewing.

She picked up the meat and placed it in her mouth. She cringed as the gush of gamey juices flooded her taste buds. She chewed several times and swallowed down the gob of gristle and meat. It tore her throat and hit her stomach like a rock. She saw the old woman staring at her with a contented sparkle in her eye. She patted back the bun in her hair. They both sat silently as Quinn worked around the tough pieces of food and thought about how she was going to finish her work before retiring for the night.

Picking up the camera and looking into the hollow space where its guts once were, she stuck her finger where the shutter once was and brushed away the dust that rested in it. Small crumbs of debris fell on to the table in front of her and when she was satisfied she placed the main mechanism back in to it. She flashed a smile at the elderly woman and closed it back up with a look of satisfaction.

"It seems you've solved your problem, then, hon," she said with a small wink.

Quinn shook her head and stated, "Just one of many."

Grandma Sparkle let out a hearty laugh and wiped a tear from her eye.

"Ain't that always the way?" she asked warmly. She stood from her chair and stretched. "Well, you best be heading…" She stopped and stared into the distance. Quinn turned in the direction she was looking and saw a small band of people donned in power armor walking towards her. "My word."

Quinn stood up and leaned against the table, her arms folded in front of her casually. The three knights drew closer with their weapons drawn. The one in front lifted a fist to stop them and then approached Quinn as if this was an ordinary event for them.

"I didn't think we'd find you out here already," Colvin stated with a calm tone.

"What are you doing out here?" Quinn questioned, her arms falling to her side.

"We have to go back to the Citadel for some items. Things are slim pickings right now," he answered. He pulled his helmet off and tucked it under his arm. He looked down at the camera on the table and back at her in confusion. "Latest project?"

"Something like that," she replied with a shrug. The two of them leaned over it and examined the black box. "I've got it to move, changed the battery and all that, it's missing a flashbulb, but other than that, yeah, it's a work in progress."

"Film?" Colvin queried giving her a quick once over.

Quinn hesitated, her mouth pursing at the one thing critical to it that she had forgotten.

"Shit," she grumbled. "No, I don't have that."

Grandma Sparkle cleared her throat and drew the pair's attention to her. Quinn's shoulders slumped slightly as the old woman left them and entered her home. Colvin spoke with his squad and Quinn just stared blankly at the device in front of her.

_Fuck it._

"You want to come with us?" Colvin asked her.

"We're going in different directions," Quinn answered without looking at him.

"You can tag along with us till we get there then," he stated, putting his helmet on and nodded for them to continue.

Quinn picked up the camera with a sigh and slid it into her pack. She thought it had been a good idea, but alas, it hadn't worked out. Like so many other things. She lit a cigarette and began trudging up the hill towards the knights. Her rifle swayed against her back, her hair flitted in the breeze and everything seemed to drag until they were near Grandma Sparkle's shack. She heard the door slam shut and the old woman came running up to her.

"Take it," she ordered as she thrust a roll of film and flashbulb into her hand. "Do something wonderful with it."

Quinn smiled and thanked her before setting the objects into her pack. She gave the old woman a hug and dug her hand into her pocket. She took out several bottle caps and handed them to her. Sparkle pinched Quinn's cheek and told her to come back.

"I will," Quinn said thoughtfully. "Take care of yourself."

"You too, darling," Grandma Sparkle replied. "Good luck looking for your father."

Quinn looked at Colvin and the four of them continued on the path, past the broken towers and subway system entrances. Music spilled from her Pip-Boy as they walked. The two soldiers behind her spoke in hushed whispers about her. The amount of venom they spewed was disgusting. "Mutt," "Nobody," Waste of time," seemed to be the common things they called her. Colvin gave her a look and shook his head.

"Don't worry about it," he whispered to her.

She nodded her head and kept walking with him. Her pace nearly doubled his as they came to a large broken bridge. Colvin ordered the group to stop and they hid behind some rubble. He pulled his rifle and peered through the scope. He let out a sigh and handed it to Quinn. She was taken aback by the gesture. She looked at the rifle and then at him curiously.

"What?" she mouthed.

"Take the shot. Consider it your first lesson," he said.

He thrust the gun into her hands and pointed toward the bridge. Quinn looked down the scope and saw movement on a small landing. She gave Colvin a look and he nodded. Her vision centered on the target and she squeezed the trigger. She could only watch as a spray of blood erupted from the person. Her stomach tied in knots and she closed her eyes in horror as to what she had done.

She handed the rifle back, feeling the contents of her stomach heading towards the unavoidable exit. She pressed her hand to her stomach to try to soothe the nausea from succeeding in purging what food she had in there, but it was too much and she lurched forward, her hand pressed into the concrete and vomited violently on to the ground. Through tears and purges she let loose a string of swears that made Colvin look at her with concern.

Gun fire scattered across the night sky towards them. Bullets ricocheted off the steel rebar overhead and the knights returned fire. Quinn dried her eyes and wiped the strings of drool from her lips and gave Colvin a look of contempt. She pulled her assault rifle and charged into the fray, with the other soldiers on her heels. As each raider fell, less bullets rained down on them and then Colvin gave them the all clear. The pair charged up the ramp and came across the strewn bodies lying dead in puddles of torn flesh and blood.

She stood there silently, the strap of the rifle on her shoulder and frowned. She saw the person she'd shot, brain matter scattered around them in mounds of gooey meat. Jesus. She knew she'd nailed them, but not there and took small comfort in knowing that their death was instantaneous. Colvin took one look at the body and then at Quinn and scowled. He turned her towards him and placed his hands on her shoulders.

"Don't ever do that," he growled. "You could have gotten yourself killed."

Quinn looked up at him and then at the body between them. She bit her lower lip and nodded acceptingly to his warning. He was right, she shouldn't have rushed the field in the middle of a fire fight, but no one was giving up ground and she had distracted the raiders enough so the others could get off their shots.

"I'm sorry," she murmured.

Colvin let out a sigh and pulled her closer. The cold steel was unforgiving, but the person under it was far more pliable. Much more warm compared to the persona the power armor gave. She listened to the servos working, the automated ticker that made him appear more machine than man, and just under all the metal and electronics the sounds of breathing.

"We're almost there, Knight Captain," one of the soldiers remarked before heading down the ramp.

Colvin looked at the large structure in the distance and then to Quinn. He ordered the others to head out and took her hand in his. They walked down the ramp together and he stopped. Looking in a different direction he pointed for her to go that way and released her from his grasp.

"Be careful," he warned. "There's more muties that way and I hope you send them to meet their maker." Quinn smiled and began to walk toward the bridge. Colvin called to her and she looked over her shoulder at him. "Just…"

"I know," she replied with a smile. "I'll see you around."

She turned back and walked across the bridge; her eyes kept falling to the large structure the Brotherhood had traveled to and frowned. She didn't know if she'd see him again but the thought made strange sensations in her stomach. She tried to write it off as nausea, but it travelled to her heart. The rapid palpitations made her stop and check her Pip-Boy. Everything appeared to be normal, but the feelings lingered and science and medicine weren't going to give her the answer she was looking for.


	8. Stains of Time

_Rivet City, Science Lab_

Computers lined the walls of the large room. Chirps and beeps littered the air as they processed data. The smell was electrified and only heightened by the argument on the opposite side of the room. As much as the verbal combatants tried to keep their voices down, something would spark them into yelling at random intervals. Quinn tried to pay it no mind, working on her Pip-Boy instead to pass the time. Her eyes only came up when a person passed her line of sight. She wasn't used to a lab being as busy as it was. So many people hurried around the room. Some were in lab coats, others in utility gear making the daily maintenance of the machinery that cared for the experiments going on.

A brunette threw her hands up at the older man she'd been arguing with and stormed away. Quinn had only gathered little about the topic and didn't seem to mind the argument on what science actually was. It was almost philosophical in nature; even she had had the argument once with her father once she'd started her training under him and Jonas. She kept her mouth shut for a little while longer and shut down her Pip-boy when she deemed enough time had passed to ask the brunette if she knew where Doctor Li was.

"She's over there," she snapped with a pointed finger. She scoffed and rolled her eyes before clearing her throat and straightening her coat. "Can you believe that man? We are working on something important here and he thinks he can try and undercut us just because he comes from the Commonwealth?"

"I'm sure he doesn't mean any harm," Quinn replied giving him a glance over the shoulder.

"Pfft. Whatever," she spat. "If that's all you want then I have to go, this work isn't going to do itself."

"Understood," Quinn answered. "Thanks for the help."

Quinn watched Doctor Li work from one end of the lab to the other, before stopping at a chemistry set. She leaned against the table with a clipboard in her hand and frowned. Doctor Li grumbled to herself and sipped from her coffee cup. She set it down and turned her back on her and continued to ramble off information to herself.

"This isn't right," Doctor Li muttered out loud.

She turned back to Quinn and began to walk and stopped when she finally noticed she was there. Quinn looked at her with an amused look on her face. She folded her arms and stared at her from behind her glasses.

"Have you seen my father?" Quinn asked. "I was told he came to see you."

Doctor Li took a step back to take in the young woman before her. Her eyes squinted and the tense exterior the scientist gave off hardened when she realized who it was. It was an awkward silence that could have been made better by coughing or doing something but Doctor Li seemed more amazed that she was standing there.

"I can't believe it's you," Doctor Li muttered with a shake of her head. "I thought your father left you in the Vault for your protection."

"He did," Quinn replied.

"But you're here now. I'm surprised you'd go against your father's wishes. He was content in knowing that you wouldn't have to face the things out here than what was happening in the Vault," Li stated as she swept the few strands of hair from her face.

"He's the reason I left the Vault. I didn't have a choice in that matter. But if you've seen him, do you know where he is?" Quinn pressed further, not allowing her temper to get the better of her.

"He's not here," the doctor said.

"Obviously," Quinn grumbled. She let out a sigh and pressed up on her toes. "Then where did he go?"

"He came here asking me to help him with the Project. I told him too much time had passed, but he wasn't going to have it," Doctor Li explained.

"What Project?" Quinn queried, her arms falling to her side at a loss to what she was being told.

"He didn't tell you?" she asked, letting out a scoff. "Of course he wouldn't. And I don't have time to explain it to you. You probably wouldn't even understand it."

Doctor Li walked to a small table and examined the vegetables on them. Her hands fell upon it as if trying to recall the memories of a different life. There was sadness on her face as the first recollections came forth, followed by a look of almost contempt darting in her eyes. Quinn could only stand in silence as Doctor Li worked for several minutes, in bouts of frantic writing to utter stillness as if she had been avoiding the conversation all together. Eventually, she turned to the young woman with a vacant stare. Her lips thinned as she gathered her thoughts and wrote on her clipboard.

"Look, I've been traipsing all over this damn wasteland looking for him. I've been shot at, blown up, beat up, and used," Quinn snapped, her last nerve wavering. "I understand you are busy, so just tell me where the hell he went and I'll get out of your way."

The scientist looked stunned by the angry tone in which the nineteen year old had given her. She put her clipboard down and stood by the stairs leading out of the lab. She gave her a sharp glare and pointed for the door.

"He said he was going back to the Jefferson Memorial. It's not far from here," Doctor Li stated. Quinn thanked her half-heartedly and marched up the stairs. The weight of the world dragged her shoulders down and she looked back at Doctor Li regretfully. "I'm sure that your father will be pleased that his only child has become a petty thug since she's been out in the real world."

Quinn, at a loss for words, continued in silence out of the lab and made her way back to the entrance to Rivet City. She took out a cigarette and looked in the direction of the memorial. It's large rotunda stood above the morning fog, a testament to what the country used to be about. She wasn't so sure what sort of grandeur it held at one time, but given the state of the past and the ruins she'd wandered through, she was sure that the end of it – while not justifying the means – changed how the world was perceived. It could have been better, could have changed, but now was left to carry the scars as a cautionary tale of those whose reach had exceeded their grasp.

_How far will it go before I reach that point? Where the decisions I make become unfathomable to change. Where life is sacrificed to save the whole and with dying breath know that I did the right thing._


	9. Ashes of Dreams

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Project Purity Notes property of Bethesda.

_Jefferson Memorial, Basement_

Quinn sat in large backed chair in the corner of a small room. The small desk lamp flickered haphazardly as she pulled out the first set of holotapes she'd collected. She inhaled, taking in the smell of stagnant water and Super Mutant rot that lingered in the air. She examined each of them, running her fingers along the grooves with increasing care, only to slide the tape into her Pip-Boy. The computer chirped to life and the voice of her father carried heavily to her ears.

_"I am at a loss. My beloved wife is gone. In her place is my daughter, small and helpless. As much as this place means to me… as much as it meant to Catherine, this is no place for an infant. Especially an infant without her mother."_

She slid deeper into the chair, taking in the voice that reverberated off the walls. The sadness these walls could tell. Her eyes searched the room and found a half-empty bottle of scotch. She sat up and reached for the bottle. The cap fell off and clinked to the floor. It rolled several feet and fell flat next to the bed. She picked up the bottle and cleaned the mouth off with her undershirt. She let out a sigh and placed the bottle to her lips. It smelled sweet and tasted bitter and harshly warm as it swam past her gullet and into the pit of her stomach. She lit a cigarette and placed the next tape in to the slot.

_"I'm off to Vault 112 to search for anything of Braun's that might help get this purifier up and running. All I know is that it's West of some place called 'Evergreen Mills,' and it's well hidden in some sort of garage. But I'll find it, I have to. It's so close, but that's the story of Project Purity, isn't it? An eternity of 'almost there's'. Let's see if Braun has the missing puzzle piece."_

The Pip-Boy chirped off and Quinn sat in the lone silence. She'd never heard her father doubt anything. He was always confident about what he did, and if he did have those lingering doubts, he never showed them. Which was something they didn't share. The name Stanislaus Braun, was one she was familiar with as well. She'd discovered it the day she left the Vault on the Overseer's computer. It was just in passing, and she didn't think much about it at the time, but now it was in fact a puzzle piece to not only her father's conundrum, but hers as well.

She sat up in the chair and let out a long, hard yawn. She hadn't slept in over twenty-four hours and her body nagged for a chance at rest. With a holotape in tow, she made her way to the bed across from her. It still smelled of her father's after shave and a hint of sweat. She took off her boots and sunglasses and lay in the bed. Her eyes met the ceiling and its icy steel overhead. She took out the picture of her father and slid the last tape in. A strange woman's voice came over the speaker this time.

Quinn squinted and turned up the volume just slightly. She sat up, her eyes curious to what was going to unfold for her.

_"That batch of tests was inconclusive, but Madison and I are convinced it's a problem with the second filtration system. We're going to recalibrate the equipment and try again tomorrow so that… James, please, I'm trying to work…"_

The girl's eyes grew wide as the woman giggled playfully on the tape. She seemed emotive about their progress except from the interruption by someone in the room. It couldn't have been her father, at least it shouldn't have been. It hadn't made sense to her, such a curious display while doing field testing, it shouldn't have been there.

_"So that's the next step. Assuming we get the results we need, we'll move on to… James! Stop, I need to finish these notes! We'll move on to diagnosing the issues with the radiation dampeners, that should… Owww! James! Now? We really shouldn't!"_

Quinn switched off the Pip-Boy, a heavy blush on her cheeks and smiled. If it had been her father, then she'd never heard any one respond to him like that. He was always so isolated from the world, keeping busy with his work and with her, never taking time for himself. All the things he'd sacrificed had been because of her. He wasn't a human being anymore, he had went on autopilot and moved through the day to day, biding his time till he could get away and return to his work.

It was then that it had dawned on her why Doctor Li was so irritated by her. She was the memory of failure, of betrayal, all those things that she couldn't have because her father belonged to another and much as she tried to hide it, it was plain for everyone to see. And with me in the way Dad had to leave. He was only truly happy when he was talking about Mom and now she's gone and I'm left in her place. Only a shadow of a dream they both tried to achieve.

She was the catalyst of change, whether good or bad. She'd killed her mother, made her father abandon his dream, and had let him down by following him. She knew he wanted what was best for her, but it wasn't meant to be and now she was alone amidst the scattered remnants of her mother and father in a place far from home in a land where the rules change with the wind.

Quinn hoped that he'd forgive her when they saw each other, not yell at her for not listening, but even that would have been a God send by comparison to the hell she'd wandered in to. She turned on the recording of the woman again and listened to the hope and happiness that exuded in her voice.

"I'm sorry, Mom. I wish he'd told me sooner, I'd have helped him in any way I could. This is now as much for you as it is for him and me," she murmured to the recording. "We still need each other and you are still here in me and when I find him we'll finish this for you. This was your dream as much as I was."

She closed her eyes and listened to laughter on the recording. The amount of joy made her smile. It was positive, full of life.

_And one day I will get to experience that happiness for myself when all is said and done. I can't go back to the Vault – not that I would ever want to – but I can continue to live with my choices and hope the ones who love me can accept those faults as well._


	10. Mind Games

_Vault 112, Two days later…_

The large door stood before her, a testament of human ingenuity realized. Emblazoned with a large one-one-two, she shivered at the familiarity of recycled air and cold steel as she threw the switch and waited. The familiar klaxon sounded off as the door slid back, exhaling the mechanical perfume of grease and oil. The sounds it made as it slid open, the violent shriek of metal grinding on metal gave way to memories of her departure.

It felt like yesterday, watching Amata be sealed away and the damage that she, her father, and Jonas had created in their wake. _Poor, Jonas._ She shook her head at the thought of her friend lying cold and lifeless on the floor. A large gash across his scalp exposed the crack beneath. He had probably tried to calm the situation; he was passive about so many things that everything just escalated before he could do anything.

Her hands tightened into fists as she stepped over the threshold and it to entranceway. It was as quiet as a tomb, except for the sporadic beep of panels that dotted the various sections of the room. She walked up the stairs, her boots thudding the slotted steel walkway until she came to a door. Opening it released another sigh from the vault. It was subtle; the creak of metal along its concrete frame, the smells, the sights, all seemed to be reminiscent of her home.

She peeled her sunglasses off and set them on top of her head. Placing her hand on her 10mm, she entered another large room. Her eyes examined the entire area. It was empty. The precautious edge she had gained, forced her to close the door behind her. In the distance, she heard the whirr of gears and tracks upon grating. Her hand tensed and saw the creator of the noise roll in to the room on its thick tracks. A large brain covered in a clear shell approached Quinn and beeped.

"You are 202.3 years late for your reservation," it stated in a fake sing-song voice. Its arms flailed wildly as it drew closer. "Welcome, inhabitant to Vault 112. Please change into your Vault 112 jumpsuit. If you have forgotten yours, another will be provided for you."

"Alright," Quinn replied with a sigh. "I need another one."

The robot rolled closer, opened a small slot in its torso and retrieved a vault suit. Quinn again sighed at the thought of wearing the stiff item. She disrobed; leaving everything folded on top of a console and suited up in the worn Vault 112 suit. The fabric scratched at her skin and the smell was of old oil and some other foreign substance she couldn't figure out.

The robotic greeter beckoned for her to follow. She obliged; taking note of how empty and cold the building was except for the robots that they had past. Each chirped a warm welcome and continued on their way to some clandestine place. Where is everyone? She continued walking in relative silence until they came to a set of stairs.

The greeter turned to Quinn with arms flailing about wildly and said, "Please find a vacant tranquility pod. Thank you. Enjoy your stay."

Quinn walked down the stairs and into a large room. Large pods surrounded a central computer at the center of the room. She walked around them, examining the people in them, and the contraption that had them tightly wound into the fabric of their Vault. They were expressionless as watched a monitor in front of them, the flickering light gave a faint profile of the inhabitants, but when she knocked on the glass, no one responded to her.

One by one she peered into the pods, confounded that she hadn't found her father. _I should have found some evidence that he was here by now._ She came to an empty pod and began to open it when the flash of one of the pods drew her attention to it. She hurried over and looked up into it and saw her father, motionless and devoid of her presence. Weeks of searching and fighting had been rewarded at last. She was ecstatic to see him. Her eyes glazed over in tears of joy. She didn't care about it then, for not all tears were an evil.

"Dad!" she yelped. She pounded the glass to get his attention. "Dad!" Again, she pounded, this time harder.

The delight in her discovery faded when she recalled that making noise changed nothing. He was so close, yet so far away. It was a small defeat that she wasn't going to take. Not after she'd crawled, basically, on her hands and knees to get to this point. She wasn't going to back down now. He would have never allowed that drive to diminish when he was so close to what he wanted. Her eyes followed the heavy black wires to the central computer and looked at the computer screen directly across from her father. His life signs read across the screen as elevated with an addendum that it was possibly stress related. She looked over her shoulder to the pod and back to the screen, her eyes narrowing on his stats for a few more moments.

She glanced at the vacant pod and smirked. Nothing was going to stop her now, not when she was so close to getting her father back, even if it meant hopping into two hundred year old tech to get him back. There has to be a way. These people should have been up by now. _Maybe it can be fixed from the inside. I need to get him out of there._ She approached the pod and let out a sigh. This better work. She climbed into it and took her seat in the chair. The upper casing of the pod sealed around her and let out a cold hiss as the pressure shifted. She sat back let the popping in her ears subside and took a deep breath. A large monitor swooped down in front of her. It flashed several times as it whirled to life.

_Down the rabbit hole, Alice._


	11. Like Home

Colvin stood on the smoldering pile of concrete. Flames crackled around him, casting shadows on the remaining foundation of the building. Bullet ridden bodies strewed the ground in a path leading from him to the remainder of his squad. In the frigid wind, he still found himself sweating profusely under his armor. Newly created pot marks in his armor were jagged and shimmered brightly in the firelight.

"What the hell happened?" Knight Captain Dusk snapped.

Colvin shook his head, perplexed by the ambush that had been sprung on them. It had been a long time since they were caught off guard in such a fashion that ended in casualties. Dusk shifted slightly as another in the group led one of the wounded for her to help. The new recruit's leg was lifted up off the ground. A sense of shock and fear hit the group.

The area had been deemed cleared by other troops thus far.

"I don't know," Colvin uttered, lost in thought.

"Well, Lyons is going to lose her shit when she finds out that the status of this thoroughfare has changed," Paladin Glade growled.

Colvin nodded, looking in the direction towards the Citadel. From where they were, with the injured initiate and their dead, it would take hours to get back. He felt defeated by the attack. He looked around to see if they could lay low for the evening to get the young man stabilized; maybe send someone for a medic to transport him back for proper help.

He slung his rifle over his shoulder; an overwhelming sense of dread sank into him as he ordered the group to retrace their steps to a small burned out area that he knew for a fact was clear. The group groaned in sync and began to bicker about what had caused the super mutants to get so uppity recently. It could have been anything, by all accounts, they had little to go on as to the motives of the heathens, but that didn't make the brazen attack any easier to accept.

Dusk and the recruit stayed to the center of the group, while Colvin took the rear. As they reached the small summit in the road, they saw the large double doors of a blasted out office building hanging ajar. It was defensible enough for the night; they'd work in shifts if need be.

"You know, you're an asshole, Colvin," Dusk remarked with a glance over her shoulder.

"Thanks, Dusk," he replied, as if unmoved by the unprovoked quip. "That's great."

"You're not even listening, are you?" she growled with a stop. The party parted as she spun around nearly taking the recruit to the ground. Colvin stood his ground at her attack. The snipers stared at each other in silence. Dusk planted her finger into his chest and pushed. "This shit is on you! Ever since that stupid child came by GNR you've been out of your motherfucking mind. You aren't fit to lead a group no matter how much bravado you spew!"

Colvin looked at her finger drilling into his chest plate and to the group. Yes, he had been distracted; he could admit that. It had been three weeks since he'd seen Quinn. The only thing he'd been hanging on were the news reports that Three Dog would dole out like morsels of hope to him.

"This isn't entirely my fault," he responded in frustration. "You are just as accountable for this CF as I am."

"Bullshit," Dusk hissed.

"No, it's not, and you know it," he argued back. "You've been riding me since I got back to the Citadel. Hell, the entirety of Lyons' Pride has been gossiping like a damn knitting circle about things they have no idea about." His eyes shot up to Glade who was pushing open the battered door and back to Dusk. "If I didn't know any better, I'd think you were jealous."

Dusk staggered back as if the words had knocked the wind out of her.

"What the fuck?" she uttered.

"You heard me," he snapped back.

"Run," the sniper whispered. She looked around him and quickly stepped further away.

Colvin turned with just enough time to see a very large, very angry Super Mutant bearing down on him. He shoved Dusk for the door and was rewarded with a hard hit to the gut that sent him flying against a concrete wall. Pieces of it began to splinter and crack, smashing him in the head. His head swiveled to and fro. He could barely get his bearings when a large foot stopped right in front of him. He lifted his gaze to the monster as it reeled back a large hammer.

_Hail Mary, full of grace…_

He closed his eyes and waited for the killing blow. He thought about Quinn, where she was, what she was doing, what he wanted to say and couldn't. He hated himself for it: the fear.

_Our Lord is with Thee…_

Through the heavy breathing and gnashing of teeth, gunshots echoed through the street. The crack of a high caliber weapon sent familiar shivers down his spine. He heard a loud thud hit the broken sidewalk. Slowly, he opened his eyes and saw the hammer on the ground a mere inches from his legs. He looked up at the Super Mutant in front of him and saw that its attention had turned from him to up the street. He strained to see who was firing but couldn't get a bead on them through the sweat and blood trickling into his eyes.

"I'll kill you human!" it bellowed loudly before barreling down the road in the direction of the firefight.

A second shot hit the large mass sending a spray of blood into the air. It only infuriated the mutant more. Colvin took the advantage to attempt an escape but when he pushed up on his hands to center himself, he found himself increasingly dizzy. He was nauseas, wanted to sleep. The whole event just felt like a hallucination to him. The way the moon hit the mist of red bursting into the night air was like taking a psychotropic. He slid down the wall again and let out a loud growl.

The yelling continued for several more moments and then the deathly silence returned. No gunfire, no screams, nothing. Colvin felt himself panting from the adrenaline and pain. He wanted to get up, he needed to. There was no way around it, unless he wanted to make himself a target for another attack. The quick crunching of gravel underfoot drew closer; followed by a second set in close succession.

"Are you alright?" a woman's voice asked, nearly out of breath. "Dad, he's hurt."

"Help me get him up," the second person replied.

Colvin felt hands around his arms and his weight being lifted so he could stand. The pair of Samaritans grunted as they placed him on their shoulders. He knew the Power Armor was unforgiving, but he wasn't and he asked – more to himself than outwardly – for it.

"Bring him in here," Glade called.

The three of them shuffled across the road slowly and he heard heavy doors close and latch behind him. A small lantern lit the room in an incandescent yellow. He heard moaning and Dusk reassuring the recruit that he'd nearly forgotten about until then.

"Is there someplace we can put him?" the familiar voice queried with a groan.

He didn't hear a response; he just kept moving until the duo eased him to the ground. His saviors stood over him and in hushed whispers spoke amongst themselves. The woman let out a sigh and the man walked away.

"Can I get you to take off your helmet so I can check you out?" she asked finally. Colvin, through the hazy blur, saw two small hands come towards his face. Instinctively, he tried to stop them. "I really need to see how much trauma was done." Her voice was soft and calm as she explained why she was doing it. His hands slipped from hers and he nodded in a daze.

He released the seals and she helped him remove his helmet. His head was heavy and almost unbearable to hold up any longer. Blood dripped from his forehead on his armor, but at that point he didn't rightly care. He just thought about Quinn and how much he didn't want her to ever see him like that.

An audible gasp escaped her. He looked at her; his remaining strength waned just to meet her eye. He saw large glassy eyes staring back at him. Her mouth was covered by her hand.

"No, Quinn" he mumbled.

"Colvin," she breathed.

He tried everything in his power to smile at her – just to make her feel better. He lifted his hand to hers and pulled it from her face. His vision became worse as he watched her expression change from shock to sadness. Everything in him told him to hold on. _Don't sleep._ He matched her sadness when he realized that he could not feel her hand through the heavy metal of his gauntlet. It was the one thing he ached for, even if were for a moment it would a moment of pure grandeur for him.

"Is something wrong?" the older man asked.

Quinn straightened, pulled her hand from his and shook her head. She cleared her throat and uttered, "No. He has a laceration and a concussion."

"Alright," he replied. "When you've got him stabilized, I could use your help with this one."

She nodded and returned her attention to Colvin. She feigned a smile and pulled her pack in front of her. She dug through it and pulled out a small box. By now, his eyelids were heavy and her voice drifted from barely audible to crystal clear. Soft shaking would wake him from his stupor and ground him into reality, but he could no longer keep his eyes open.

He muttered incoherently as she asked him questions, but his hand never left her lap as she worked on him. It was where they wanted it to stay for the time being and he was glad for it in a sense. He felt like he was home with her. It was the only thing that made sense to him as the questions and jostling subsided and he felt his full weight sink into the ground.


	12. The Heart's Intent

James awoke to the sound of voices outside.  He lifted his head from his knees and glanced at the wounded soldier beside him.  He and Quinn had spent the better part of the night setting the man’s broken femur.  It was tenuous work in highly unsterile conditions and with limited painkillers to relieve the man’s agony during the surgery; he was surprised to see that his patient had survived the night.  However, that didn’t assuage any trepidation that he had about the possible onset of infection.

He reached over to the young soldier and placed his hand on his forehead.  Small beads of sweat sat upon his brow, but the familiar burn of an infection’s fever was absent.  He let out a sigh and looked over at where the other Brotherhood of Steel member was and found it strangely vacant along with the small void where Quinn had finally rested beside him.  He cast his eyes to the door and the disembodied voices that emanated from outside.

James slowly stood, allowing the morning crackle of his knees to make their daily appearance.  He stretched his back, feeling the pull of his spine as he reached farther back.  He knew he was disheveled, dirty, and covered in blood.  He looked at his jacket and saw the numerous smatterings of blood across his clothes.  He grumbled to himself and started for the door. 

The morning sun greeted him with a blanket of thick grey fog along the ground.  The brisk air pricked his skin and the sour smell of death and decay was more pungent than he’d remembered from the previous night.  He shielded his eyes and scanned the avenue.  Three Brotherhood of Steel Knights stood to the right of him.  Their voices dropped in volume when they noticed him standing outside.

No one acknowledged him with pleasantries and continued their rather terse conversation with each other.  One nodded and he checked his rifle before turning to James.  The heavy steel helmet stared at him uncomfortably for a moment before the person underneath approached him.

“Is there something wrong, Doc?” a man queried.

James shook his head and looked in the direction they had traveled from the night before.  He glanced at his Pip-Boy to check the time and peered again to the east in the direction they were intending to go.

“Have you seen Quinn?” he finally asked. 

He looked the man directly in the eye with a frown, but maintained a cool, business-like tone with the stranger.  He didn’t want to come off worried for his daughter, but his distraction with obtaining his objective made his face easier to betray his emotions.

“She headed that way,” the Knight replied with a point to the west.  “She said she was going to find some medication for Holmes.”

“What about the man she was working on last night?  He should be checked out before we depart,” James stated; his eyes fixated across the bay where the Knight had pointed.

“I’m fine, sir,” another Knight replied from the group.

“I’m sure you think so, but I wouldn’t be doing my job if I didn’t at least clear you before you go back,” James remarked with a stern look.

The Knight pulled his helm off.  A large bandage was wrapped snuggly around his head.  Small splotches of blood dotted the white fabric in dry chaotic circles.  He uttered something to another Knight and walked towards the doctor.  James waved him away from the group and stopped across the street.  “Confidentiality”, he told himself as he pulled his penlight out of his pocket.

He clicked it on and shined the light into the soldier’s eye.  First, his left and then the right.  He made two sweeps in silence before returning the pen to his pocket.  He let out a heavy sigh and began unraveling the gauze to check the sutures Quinn had placed.

“What are your intentions with my daughter?” he asked defensively.

The man’s eyes shot up to his, stunned by the question.  Even James seemed taken aback by the tone in which his question was asked.  He knew that his daughter would eventually find someone to become attached to, maybe possibly love, but not someone like him.  Not a person whose job was dangerous or where the group they worked with looked down on the locals so coldly.

He kept telling himself that she was a young woman and could make the decisions about her life without his input, but such words seemed to hide the bitter truth his heart wouldn’t accept: she was still his baby and no matter how many times he’d tried to tell himself that she didn’t need him anymore he always found his way back to the child that sat in the clinic watching him, eagerly learning about his job.

“Sir?” finally stuttered out after a full minute of shock.

“I’m just curious,” he said with feigned civility.  “Quinn can make her own decisions about those private matters on her own.  I trust her, she is my daughter.”  He slightly rotated his patient’s head to see the stitches better and swallowed hard to keep from overreacting.  “You, on the other hand, I don’t.”

“I understand,” he stated calmly.  “I wouldn’t hurt her, if that’s what you’re thinking.”

“Really?  Could you really protect her, keep her safe?” James snapped in frustration.  His hands shook as he placed a new pad of gauze to the wound and rewrapped it.  “I didn’t want her out here in the first place and the way I see things the Brotherhood –“ He looked around and saw a small figure coming up over the hill.  “You have your hands full taking care of D.C.”

“She’s not a child, sir,” the Knight muttered.

“Don’t you think I know that?  She might not be _a_  child, but she’s _my_ child,” James hissed.  “She’s all I have left and this is not the life I wanted her to have.  I know you can’t guarantee me her absolute safety…”

“How are you feeling, Colvin?” Quinn asked.  James could feel her eyes on him as he taped the end of the gauze down.  He almost didn’t want to look at her.  Any realizations about her being a woman, a sexual being, seemed to squeeze the blood from his heart.  A small fist emerged from her side and opened in front of her.  “I got some med-x for Initiate Holmes.”

James’ eyes followed the hand, up her arm, to her bloodstained flak jacket, and finally to her face.  He didn’t want the confirmation of the truth he already knew, even if meant constantly denying the illusion.  The internal struggle he had with his fatherly nature only faltered when he could no longer live with the sad delusions and harsh truths that stood before him.

He took the medication from her and let out a weak smile of appreciation.  He placed his hand on her shoulder and began to walk back to the makeshift bunker.  He gave a quick glance behind him and saw a sense of relief on his daughter’s face as she spoke with the soldier.  She seemed genuinely happy to see him doing well.  He looked to the other group and saw they were watching the exchange as well.  He would have nearly paid to see the expression on their faces at that moment, given what he knew about the Brotherhood, but he thought better of destroying the same peace he had when he looked at Catherine that Quinn had when looking at Colvin.

His pace quickened briefly and as he opened the door, one of the soldiers called to Colvin and told him that a small group of Knights was being dispatched to aid them back to the Citadel.  As he began to close the door, Colvin asked where they were headed.

“Rivet City,” Quinn replied. “After that…” Her voice trailed off and her eyes locked on his.  “I don’t know.” 


	13. I'm Sorry, Pt. 1

Colvin and his squad came out of the metro station into the blaring sunlight. The smell of cooking meat wafted on the afternoon air from Wilhelm's Warf. Most of the patrol was recon; a one day jaunt into the metro tunnels and back out again. They found no Super Mutants during their sojourn, but were attacked consistently by strung out raiders and the random ghoul that prowled around in the dark. He sent that poor soul to the Maker, as he always had when he encountered them.

The group walked in silence towards the Citadel when a static filled buzzed crackled in his helmet. Old Morse Code bleated a message and looped several times. The squad stopped and strained to listen to what was being transmitted. Over the din of static, Sentinel Lyons' voice came in faintly. 

“I need all patrols to return to the Citadel, ASAP,” Sarah ordered.

Her voice seemed stressed. Something's happened, he thought as they started a quick jog towards headquarters. His heart was already thudding rapidly against his chest as a thousand scenarios played out in his head. It could have been Super Mutants, perhaps a Behemoth, anything.

He entered A-Ring, the hallway buzzed with more excitement than he had ever seen. Analysts and Scribes walked rapidly in front of him, their eyes fixated on various clipboards. Paladins and Knights hurried down to the armory or out into the Bailey. Initiates were ushered back outside by Gunny. It was complete chaos. He could barely keep his bearings about him, what with the noise and bodies crashing into him at irregular intervals.

One of Lyons' Pride headed into the conference room down the hall.

“Kodiak, what's going on?” Colvin asked, nearly yelling at him. 

The young man turned to him and allowed the Knight Captain to catch up. He had a strange look on his face. He almost seemed perplexed by the question.

“You don't know?” Kodiak replied back. Colvin shook his head. He honestly had no clue what had happened. “You know the Jefferson Memorial?” Colvin nodded . He was becoming frustrated and just wanted answers, not the run around. It didn't help he had a migraine and the movement of his head made his previous concussion seem like he'd received another. 

He knew the Jefferson Memorial had some defunct project still there. Which was a strange location for anything to happen there. No one in their right mind would go through that hell to scavenge some derelict tech.

“Some scientists were there, I guess. Civilians,” Kodiak continued. His eyes looked past his commanding officer to the opposite end of the hall. The Knight-Captain shifted uneasily and turned to see what his comrade was looking at. He saw Sentinel Lyons standing over a person on a bench. When Kodiak noticed he was watching him, his eyes snapped back to him. “I don't know what they were doing, but they were attacked – by the Enclave.”

That name caught Colvin's attention. His eyebrow crooked. He knew the remnants were alive and well here and instantly he knew what was going on. Everything from twenty years before came back and why the old Doc looked so familiar to him. Waters of Life: An ideal pipe dream for free, clean water. He was young then, barely a Senior Initiate when he and Paladin Cross were there for protection detail. He'd lost many friends during that time from Super Mutants, disease, and other Wasteland dangers. He didn't know where it had all gone wrong. He knew that one of the lead scientists had died during childbirth and then everything went downhill from there. One day, he was told he was being reassigned to the Citadel and that was the end of the Project.

“But why now?” Colvin uttered aloud.

“We don't know yet. Elder Lyons is talking with one of the scientists now,” Kodiak replied. Again, his eyes turned to Sentinel Lyons. “If you'll excuse me, Sir, I have to get these reports to Vargas and Glade.”

Colvin stuck his head into the room, each chair was filled by a member of Lyons' Pride. Except for Sarah who was still talking to someone. He made a decision to get debriefed from Sarah about the Project. His gut told him nothing good was going to come from the Enclave in control of the Purifier.

Sentinel Lyons turned when she noticed Colvin coming. She quickly approached him, blocking his view of the person she was talking with. He leaned around her briefly and directed his attention to his commanding officer.

“Is she alright?” he asked.

Sarah let out a sigh and gently pushed him back. She glanced at the girl sitting by herself – head down, lost in thought – and frowned. She shook her head sullenly and cleared her throat.

“There was an incident at the Purifier,” Sarah began. He could hear her voice slightly wavering as she spoke. “Her dad didn't make it. Another researcher was executed as a warning.” Colvin went to press passed her, but she stopped him with a harder shove. “That's all I could get from her. She needs to talk to someone, but not now.” She gave her another sad look. “She just had to watch her father die in agony, helpless to do anything.” Her hand fell to her side. “Just – Just be careful with what you say.”

The two parted in silence. He watched Sarah enter the conference room. She was always so stoic about those sorts of things, but this moment – the event – had stirred something from within the Sentinel. They had lost friends, colleagues, even loved ones before, but his commander’s unusual demeanor unsettled him.

He looked at Quinn, sitting by herself as if she was invisible to the world. She was looking at a tattered scrap of paper and then to her Pip-Boy. She pressed the screen hard and resumed staring at the picture. Colvin didn’t know what to do at that point. He knew she was in shock, grieving, in fact. Whether she was injured or not, he couldn’t tell. It’s not like she was going to acknowledge any wounds she had received from the Enclave.

He held his breath, not knowing what to say to her, and took his place on the bench beside her. He nervously twiddled his fingers and leaned to see what she was looking at. It was the picture he’d seen before. A small spray of dried red arced across the smiling faces. There was so much happiness there behind the loss of innocence that had polluted the photo.

“Are you alright?” he finally asked. He knew it was a stupid question to ask, but it was the only thing he could muster to speak with her.

Quinn sat quietly, her lip quivered as if trying to hold back a sob. She pulled her sunglasses from her face and slowly turned to face him. Her eyes were red from crying and fresh tears slipped down her cheeks.

“Yeah,” she breathed.

“Do you need anything?” he queried, tucking the few strands of hair behind her ear.

She shook her head and pulled the Pip-Boy free of her arm. She handed the photo and Pip-Boy to him. He looked at the computer screen and saw that she had paused a recording. Quinn stood and wiped her eyes before placing her sunglasses on her face.

“I don’t know anymore,” she stated. 

She turned from him and began towards the stairs leading to the Bailey. He watched the obvious limp she exhibited, but didn’t slow her pace. Colvin’s attention returned then to the recording and the photo. He pressed the flashing button on the screen and heard her father’s voice.

_“She doesn’t need her daddy anymore.”_

The message kept looping until he couldn’t take the heartache the message was creating. He shut it off and walked back to the Lyons’ Den. All eyes were on him as he made his way to his chair. He heard shouting in the Bailey and within seconds Knight Artemis was in the doorway, out of breath, with a stunned look on his face.

“We’ve got a problem,” he huffed out.

The group all got up and headed for the stairs. None of them knew what to expect when they burst through the door into the fading daylight. From across the yard, Colvin saw Quinn quickly walking away from a man with a woman following quickly behind them. The man was screaming at the girl, but she kept walking. Everything seemed to stop as the scene played out in front of everyone.

The man was reaching his breaking point; his face beet red with rage. His pace quickened and he caught up to Quinn, grabbed her arm, and spun her around to face him.

“This is _you_ and _your father’s_ fault!” he yelled at the top of his lungs. “It was both of your faults this time and last time! Why did you come back?! Why did either of you come back?!” He started to shake her, but she pulled away and for a second Colvin saw her fingers twitch near her holster. The other scientist tried to pull him back, but he shook her off and came at Quinn again like a bulldog. “If you’d never been born, your mother and your father would be alive! You ruined everything, both of you! What gives you the damn right to interrupt people’s lives that were better off without you? How do we know your father didn’t betray us?”

The Knight Captain saw Quinn’s lips move, but couldn’t make out what she was saying. He didn’t think that the man could tell either. It just infuriated him more and the woman backed off, putting more distance between the two of them. Colvin began started walking quickly toward them and hoped that she wouldn’t do something she’d regret later in her moment of grief.

He felt Glade pull him back and that’s when he saw it: a right hook across the older man’s face. His jaw gaped and that was the cue to try to end the conflict before everything escalated. Glade and he hurried over to her and she pulled her side arm and pointed it at the injured man. Blood dribbled down his chin onto his clothes. He looked stunned by the hit and he held his jaw gently in his hand. The other scientist was knelt beside him pleading with Quinn to not do something foolish. Glade stopped; a small little smirk crept across his face and went to Quinn’s left flank; Colvin took the right.

“Don’t do this,” Colvin begged.

Quinn was crying, he could hear the ragged breath and sniffling. She was trained on her target and from the look in her eye; she was seriously considering executing him.

“My father is dead. He died trying to save us,” she stated through clenched teeth. She pulled the hammer back and the man jumped. “Why? What was the point? Why did he save you?”

“I- I- I- didn’t know. I’m sorry,” he stammered. “I just thought –“

“Hildebrand, shut up,” the woman hissed.

Colvin placed his hand on the gun and felt her grip loosen as he slid it away. Her shoulders slumped slightly and she spun around pushing both soldiers out of her way. He knew she needed to be alone, now was not the time to follow her. She was too eaten up to deal with anything. She needed to come to terms with what had happened. 

I’ll check on her after a little while, he thought. He started back towards A-Ring when another Paladin stopped him.

“We need to talk. Now,” he coldly snapped.

He knew the man behind the voice as Paladin Hoss. It wasn’t often that he returned from Falls Church, but when he did they were close. They had history and a shared connection. And given his tone, he knew exactly what they were going to talk about.


	14. I'm Sorry, Pt. 2

Colvin followed Hoss up a dilapidated set of stairs to the battlements that were once the walls of the Pentagon. The sun was setting on a chaotic and disastrous day. Even it's beauty and glow couldn't diminish the heaviness in his heart. He knew he couldn't help Quinn. There were no words nor actions to ease her pain. He looked over the river and through the thin veil of irradiated haze he could see the rotunda of the Jefferson Memorial. Shadows of vertibirds flitted as they waited to land. He shook his head. How could they have known about the Project's reactivation?

Hoss went to the southern most point of the Citadel and sat down. Colvin took his place beside him and waited for the inevitable berating to happen. A gust of wind whistled in his ears and the smell of burning tires wafted in their direction. Colvin coughed as the fumes invaded his lungs. There could have been a better place for them to have this discussion, but it was at Hoss' discretion. They hadn't spoken in six months since Hoss volunteered himself to clear out Falls Church and the surrounding areas; all the while training the new recruits that they had gotten from the civilian populace.

“What did you want to talk about?” Colvin asked. The awkward silence needed to be broken. Even though he knew what they were going to talk about, he just wanted to get it done and over with. “Is it about Sandy?” Hoss let a sigh; an affirmation that he was right on the money about the topic. Colvin glanced over at his friend and watched him take a swig of whiskey. Hoss' head dropped to the half-empty bottle in his hand and frowned. “But it's not just about her, is it?”

“Do you have any idea what you are doing?” Hoss snapped without provocation. 

His brown eyes probed Colvin with a deep intensity. His jaw clenched almost as if to keep more venom from spewing out. The Knight-Captain hadn't seen such anger from Hoss since the snafu at the Mall. That emotion was allowed then, but why now? Colvin couldn't even scrape together a logical answer for what was bringing this on, so he sat in silence and turned his attention to the broken skyline fading into darkness. He could barely muster a half-hearted apology given his pre-occupied thoughts. He didn't know where Quinn had gone off to or if she was safe.

“I don't understand,” Colvin replied if only to move things along.

“Why are you dealing with some local mutt? Do you think you can protect her?” Hoss questioned. His tone became more ominous with every word he spoke. “You couldn't protect your wife – my sister – and now you think you could pollute the traditions and group by bringing in this outsider?! You do Sandy's memory a disservice!”

Colvin's head snapped back to Hoss. Quinn wasn't a mutt and what happened to Sandy wasn't his fault.

“What happened at the Mall wasn't my fault. We've been over this already,” Colvin argued. He made a fist and slammed it down beside him in frustration. “Don't you think I don't regret what happened? Don't you realize I didn't have a choice in the matter?! We were overrun.”

“You left her to die!” Hoss growled.

“Not by choice,” Colvin muttered. “I didn't just lose my wife. I lost my child that day as well. Not a day goes by where I don't wonder what would have happened if that day hadn't played out differently.” He felt his chest tighten with the growing emotions. Sandy was the love of his life and when she was gone he'd shut the world out. He died with her. “But I don't see how any of that is Quinn's fault.”

“It's not her fault,” Hoss replied. He took another swig of whiskey and wiped his eyes. “I met her in Fall's Church. She helped me and one of the new recruits when we were under attack by Super Mutants.” He let out a chuckle and shook his head. “She was lost. Wrong turn on the Metro line. Helped patch up my boy and then went about her day.

She's a good kid.

I don't want another innocent person's death come to pass because of your ineptitude.”

“So what should I do then?” Colvin snapped. “She's not in the Brotherhood. She's – she's woken me up again.” He reached of the bottle of whiskey. Hoss handed it to him and turned in the direction of gunfire. “I failed Sandy, the baby, and you; this I know. But Quinn is different. It's like I've known her forever.”

“You really are blind, aren't you?” Hoss prodded. “She's the baby that ended the Project you were protecting. Don't you get it yet?” He snatched the bottle from Colvin's hand and took a long drink before throwing the bottle. They both watched it tumble into the darkness and then heard it shatter. “What you should do is: put distance between the two of you. If you want to keep her safe, make her leave. Tell her to go back to her Vault or go to Rivet City, because she's more danger being around you than any place else out in the Wasteland. You have a knack for getting people killed when you aren't fucking thinking.”

Colvin got to his feet and began to walk away. He'd had enough of Hoss and the insults even if they were partially correct. The advice would have been spot on if it had been totally irrelevant to Quinn on the whole. Yes, Sandy died on his watch. Yes, their baby died with her. He had failed to protect her and he vowed to never let himself get close to a person again. It didn't matter, it had been years, maybe a decade. Sandy – hopefully – would understand and forgive him. But dragging her up wasn't letting her rest nor putting her sacrifice in good standing.

He walked down the stairs and made his way to the large entrance. He needed to clear his thoughts. Find Quinn. He had to know if she was alright. And bring her back. He didn't care that she was an outsider he cared about her. 

A lone recruit stood at the gate, his eyes looked like they hadn't caught any sleep in sometime. When he saw Colvin, he saluted and asked where the Knight-Captain was off to at this hour. Colvin didn't answer. Nor did he correct the insubordinate questioning. He just wanted to get to Quinn as fast as possible and give her back her Pip-Boy and the last tangible thing of her father.

He walked towards Wilhelm's Wharf, his assault rifle in his hands. The proprietor meandered carelessly around the tables that dotted the deck. Colvin stopped and cleared his throat. The elderly woman turned and smiled at him.

“What's wrong, young man? You look terrible,” she asked.

“Have you seen Quinn?” Colvin replied. He scanned the area, but the darkness was unforgiving. 

The woman folded her arms and shook her head. “Yeah, I saw her. She looked like hell as well.”

“Which way did she go?”  
“She went towards the Super Duper Mart with after downing a bottle of scotch. She was mumbling something about her father and then took her gun out and headed that way.”

“Thanks,” Colvin replied and began to run towards the store.

Several gunshots rang out and beckoned him to hurry to the gunfight. His lungs burned and even with his training, he felt himself trying to work against the Power Armor. It wasn't making him move any faster and if he was unlucky he'd find Quinn dead. It was a thought that he dreaded, her broken body being defiled by Jet fiends looking for a multifaceted quick score.

When he made it to the parking lot he saw Quinn, awash with the light of flaming barrels. A raider had wrapped his arms around her and pinned her arms to her side. She thrashed and kicked at another thug that was winding up to hit her. Colvin raised his gun and fired at one of her assailants. The man let out a yelp and grabbed his shoulder. He hurried back toward the doors of the super market, leaving Quinn to be the human shield of the other attacker.

“Let her go,” Colvin ordered.

The junkie ducked behind Quinn more and opened a switchblade. He pressed it to her throat without a word, but his intention was clear.

“What are you doing?! Shoot this son-of-a-bitch!” Quinn yelled. “If you have to, take out the hostage.”

Colvin shook his head. He couldn't believe what she was saying. No, this was more than the usual folly, this was a person with death wish and she didn't care how she achieved it. He did the only thing he thought was reasonable: he lowered his weapon. Maybe he could defuse the situation without the violence. It was an idealistic notion, but something had to be done. Quinn glared at him. It wasn't anger that he saw in her eyes. It was uncontrollable pain.

“I can't” Colvin replied. “I'm not going to put you down like some wounded animal. Your father wouldn't want this.”

“My father's dead. What the fuck does he care now?” Quinn retorted. 

She growled and before he could say anything further she pulled her head forward. For a split second, he thought she was going to run her throat across the blade of her own volition, but she snapped her head back and smashed the man in the face. He staggered back, his face in his hands. She picked up the blade he'd dropped and stared at him. Colvin could only watch her, sway from her intoxication. She didn't say anything. Her actions were beyond her words. She pulled her weapon from a back holster and placed it to the wounded man's head. He let out a whimper, but before he could beg for his life, she fired and the man dropped.

She stared at him for a moment and cocked her head. To Colvin, she looked like she was examining him for something. She pointed the gun again at the body and fired until she had spent all the rounds in her clip. When she felt she was satisfied, she dropped the gun and turned to him. She staggered side to side, and knelt before him and began to sob. He fell to his knees and looked her over. Her shirt had been ripped open and she had numerous cuts to her chest. 

He grabbed her shoulders and pulled her into him. Her whole body quaked with choking sobs and broken sentences. The only coherent thing he got from her was 'why', but that wasn't an answer he could provide and she might not ever get it either.

“I need to get you back to the Citadel,” Colvin said. 

He picked her up and began to carry her back. He needed to stay with her. She needed to be alright and he knew from experience that with time she would be. It would be on her terms. It couldn't be forced and the process would take as long as it needed to. 

He held her close. Through her slurred speech he could make out another line of thinking.

“I had just found him and now he is gone and I won't be able to follow him this time,” she sulked.

“I know,” he murmured. “Don't try to go after him. Please.” She looked up at him and placed her hand to his face. He stopped dead. His heart raced to a beat all its own. Whether the alcohol had completely pickled her brain, there was care there. Not for herself, but for him. He set her down gently and held her up while she regained some of her bearings. He held on to her hand and sighed. “Quinn?”

“Hmm?” she mumbled. 

He couldn't look her in the eye now. Everything was moving too fast. She was drunk. She'd just lost her father. He didn't want to take advantage of her in this state.

“I'm sorry.”

“Why?” she asked. “Did I do or say something that -”

He shook his head to cut her off. “I can't. Not right now. There are things you need to know, before I let this go any further.”

Quinn let out a sigh and nodded.

It felt like the weight of the world was closing in on him and telling her about Sandy and the baby and all that had transpired was something that she didn't need to deal with right now. He was more than willing to help her shoulder her burden and he was sorry that he couldn't have changed what had happened today.

He put his arm around her and led her towards the Citadel. They would deal with those bridges when they came to them. For now, however, she needed him and he was sorry for not saying everything that needed to be said before hand. If something happened, to either of them, then they'd both be sorry. 

He looked to the heavens and begged Sandy's forgiveness for not saving her, but promised that he would make sure that nothing befell Quinn.


	15. When I'm Better

Colvin sat in a chair beside his bed, unable to sleep, he watched Quinn snuggled down on top of his sheets. The night had been fraught with gentle tears and quieter coos of comfort. When she had finally stilled, her hand was atop his, her fingers curled around his and not wanting to let him go. He let out a sigh as the other members of Lyons' Pride began to stir. 

Sarah came in to the Lyons Den and glanced at Quinn. Her eyebrows furrowed at the teen, but it wasn't annoyance or frustration that had kinked her brows in such a fashion. Even his commanding officer was considerate of Quinn's plight. A small frown formed on her face as she turned her attention to him now.

“Long night?” 

Colvin rubbed the sleeplessness from his eyes and shook his head. It wasn't really all that long for him. He was used to a lack of sleep. It came with the job. “I'm alright.”

“What about her?” Sarah asked. She pulled a chair over to them and sat. She stared at her for a few moments and then looked at her feet. She seemed unable to come up with the right words to say. “She's been through hell. Did she say what she planned on doing now?”

“She's alright, I guess,” Colvin replied. He pulled his hand out from under Quinn's and examined it. He didn't know what he was looking for, but the odd warming sensation of Quinn's grip had finally reached a depth deep enough to grace his fingertips. “She – she said she was going home.”

He watched Sarah's face contort into one of disgust.

“She wants to go back the Vault?” She slowly nodded her head as she thought about the idea. “Maybe it's for the best.” Colvin found himself nodding now. Sarah placed her hand on his knee and stared him in the eye. “We're used to death out here. It's something we take as a risk. And it's unfortunate that we've distilled it to something like 'that's business', but the only she thing she had to worry about before was dying of old age.” Sarah got up when the other Paladins were heading to the conference room. “You are one of us, she'll always be an outsider.”

Colvin looked at Quinn and gently brushed away black strands of hair from her face. “What if they won't let her back? She's just supposed to wander?” He couldn't look at his commanding officer now. It was the first time he'd ever been this insubordinate, but this was a special set of circumstances.

“I don't know, Colvin,” she answered with an exasperated sigh. She walked back to the door and stopped. She glanced over her shoulder with a pained expression. “We can discuss it with Elder Lyons after our meeting. If worse comes to worse, you can take her back to her vault and see if they'll have her back.”

Colvin rose and stared at Quinn just long enough for his memory to take a snap shot of her. He grabbed his helmet from beside his chair and followed Sarah out. He knew that problems were mounting not just with the Super Mutants, or the Outcasts, but with the Enclave making a power play on the Purifier, things were going from bad to worse.

XXXXX

Quinn heard the door close and the heavy boots of men in power armor streaming through the hallways. She opened her eyes and sat up in bed. She didn't want to debate Colvin on these things. She wasn't a child and he wasn't her dad.

_Dad..._

She held her stomach as it clenched. Every emotion began to roil again in her gut. Her anger and heartache fed her hunger and she was nearly drowning in her tears. She didn't understand what had happened. She'd fought so much, went so far just to find her father and in the end the happy ending and closure had slipped through her fingers as he lay dying at her feet and she was helpless to stop it.

She stood up and walked over to a small desk across the room. She began looking through the drawers for something to write on. The few scraps of paper had doodles on them, obviously someone had been bored in their conference, few notes were written on them. One had a yao guai attacking a ghoul in an obscene fashion. She put that aside and grabbed a cleanish piece of paper and began to write.

“I'm sorry, Colvin,” she said out loud.

_I can't stay. There's too much going on to slow down and take stock of everything. I feel like I failed. I know why Dad did it. I know that it's not my fault, but that doesn't make these damn feelings easier to manage. I don't want to drag you down, nor do I want you to think you have to protect me out of duty. I'll be okay._

_I think._

_There's thing I wish I could say to you. Things that need to be said and not written. They are important, but right now, I can't; not with my world falling down. I need some clarity. I need you to be there when I regain it. My objectivity and everything would be emotion based and not genuine._

_I..._

“Is something wrong, child?” an elderly man asked.

Quinn looked up briefly and then folded the letter. “No sir.”

He let out an amused snort and held out his hand. Quinn glanced at the letter and then placed it in his hand.

“I knew your father, you know. James was a good man. Idealist with a heart and strong spirit. I considered him a friend. He'll be missed,” the man frowned and then opened the letter.

Quinn could only watch in horror and embarrassment as he read her visceral emotions that were only meant for Colvin. She lowered her eyes, ashamed of herself for letting her feelings get in between Colvin and the Brotherhood.

“You are coming back then, yes?” the man asked.

“Yes. I don't know what I could possibly do. I don't have the training you guys have. I'm just going to get in the way,” Quinn murmured.

“We could always use another field surgeon,” he replied running his fingers through his long grey beard. “But we'll discuss it when you get back. And you'd be more of a contractor than a member of the Brotherhood. 

On our end, we've got to find out what the Enclave and Eden are up to. When it comes down to it, will you help?”

Quinn nodded slowly. It was still a lot to take in. Sure, she could help take down the Enclave whether it was vengeance, justice, or sic semper tyrannis, it mattered not. She'd make herself available when it came time to shed the chaff of the Wasteland.

“Then go on. I'll make sure Colvin gets this and let him know you'll be back when you're ready.”

“Thank you, sir.”

Quinn picked up her pack and opened the door. She peered into the hallway and saw a couple of guards on duty in front of the conference room. Sarah's voice carried over giving orders to the Pride. Colvin was going on patrol into the ruins and would make a trip over to GNR for a couple of nights.

Quinn's shoulders slumped. She wanted to say good-bye, but that's what the letter had been for in the first place. She began to walk towards the exit and out into the early morning sunrise. Salty sea air filled her lungs. She knew she was going to be alright in the end, but she wanted to be alright and brave enough to face Colvin on her terms without the sting and pain of loss dripping off her words. She was going to make it happen or she was going to die trying.


	16. Fear of Frailty

“Alright, so you check the circuit here and plug in the widget,” Quinn explained with a point. She looked up at the young faces watching her intently as she explained how to fix the robot. Some looked confused, others bored, while a couple genuinely seemed intrigued by what she was doing. “Make sure the power source is still in working order.” She dusted off her hands and looked for a wrench. A young man by the moniker Timebomb bent down and picked it up. He held it out to her and she took it with a small nod of thanks and turned back to the dormant bot. “The bolt here is the door to the battery compartment.”

“How long does this usually take,” another man asked.

Quinn let out a sigh and shook her head. “It'll take as long as it takes, Flash.”

“We should be careful. The muties or slavers will see that no one's watching the bridge,” another muttered.

Quinn pulled the battery out and checked for corrosion. For a two hundred plus year old part, it looked almost like it had come right out of the package. Thankful that she didn't need to leave for Megaton to get a replacement, she put it back and closed the door. She stood up and pressed the button just beneath the robot's head. It sprang to life with a flood of gasps from the group. They looked at each other and murmured to themselves with excitement.

The new sentry began to roll around. The kids scurried apart as it made it's way to the bridge. The teens followed it and Quinn took out a cigarette and lit it with complete satisfaction. It was the first time in awhile that she'd felt like she'd accomplished something in its entirety. However she had her doubts about the group's survival, she kept them to herself.

“Quinn?” a young boy questioned with a tug to her jacket.

“Yes, Brian?” she replied as she flicked her ash and began to walk into the center of town.

“Are we going to Rivet City soon?” Brian questioned with a slight grumble.

“In a couple of days. I want to make sure these guys are all set and then we'll get you to your aunt,” she answered. She reached into her jacket pocket and pulled out a box of gumdrops and handed them to Brian. “Don't tell your aunt that I gave them to you.”

Brian smiled and opened the package.

A young girl in a red jumpsuit came up to Quinn and threw her arms around her. “Thank you for everything.”

“Don't worry about it,” Quinn said uncomfortably. She scanned the group and found Dusty – the town's watchman – pulling his weapon to the ready. Quinn pulled herself free of the embrace and put Brian between them. She looked in the direction that the sentry was watching and saw movement coming up the road. Large forms, nothing good came from abnormally large bodies. “Take him inside and stay down.” She caught the leader of the group by the arm as he was walking by. “Pappy, get everyone inside.”

Pappy nodded and hurried Red and Brian into the common house. Quinn watched as the ramshackle settlement cleared leaving herself and Dusty as the only people in sight. She approached the young man. He was jittery and anxious, but she saw a resilience in him. She knew if she could calm him down, he'd be alright. She placed her hand on his shoulder and he jumped. He spun around, ready to shoot and she shoved the gun to the side.

“It's alright,” she whispered. She knelt behind the sand bags and waved him to follow. “Just watch them.” 

Dusty was panting; his eyes darting around in fear. Again, she placed her hand on him to calm him. Voices drew closer and Quinn took a peek out. Two Super Mutants were wandering in their direction. She let out a sigh and saw the Robosentry wheeling towards the bridge. She put a finger to her lips and smiled.

“They're going to kill us,” Dusty murmured.

“No. They aren't,” Quinn hissed. She lit a cigarette as the heavy footsteps drew closer. 

She pointed to the robot and before she could assure him further, gun shots were fired. She ducked her head and watched as the robot fired off round after round from its minigun. Deep red tracers blurred through the darkness. The noise was deafening. One of the mutants let out a growl of anger and the bridge began to creak.

_Shit!_

With a sure hand, she pulled her sidearm and was ready to fire in the event the attackers got across the bridge. Before she could do anything else, something fell between Dusty and her. Her eyes fell on it and for the briefest of seconds, she had no idea what it was. When her eyes had cleared of the plumes of dust, she saw it.

“Grenade!” Dusty yelped.

Quinn kicked it away and grabbed Dusty. She tossed him behind a half wall and threw herself on top of him. She covered her head and shut her eyes. She didn't know if the plaster was going to be enough to block the flying shrapnel, but she had to do something. She was going back to Colvin one way or another; Super Mutants and their fucking grenades be damned. 

The blast was deafening. Her ears rang. She was disoriented. Couldn't breathe. She felt like she was being squeezed. Before she could look at what was going on, she felt her whole body move and then was met with the cold dirt ground beneath her and the full weight of a person on her. Quinn opened her eyes and saw Dusty looking down at her. He was panicked and was saying something to her, but she couldn't make it out.

“You need to let me up,” she growled. 

She pushed him off of her and shook off the confusion. A giant green figure came towards them. It was bloody, angry, and knew exactly where they were. Her eyes grew wide as she scrambled for her gun. It sprinted for them and she put herself between Dusty and the mutant. Dusty whimpered, she grabbed his rifle and squeezed the trigger.

The first round struck the mutant in the shoulder and staggered it back. She fired again, striking it in the chest. The bot turned and fired at the assailant. Sprays of blood flashed in the pale moonlight. It was drawn out. Overkill. Exhilarating.

The Super Mutant stumbled sideways and toppled into a pool of irradiated water. Quinn turned to Dusty and smirked. It wasn't a happy gesture. She was exhausted. 

“You alright?” she asked as she stood.

“I'm good,” Dusty replied.

Quinn walked up to the Sentrybot and saw all the dents and bullet marks on its hull. She ordered it to run a diagnostic on its systems. Meanwhile, the citizens came out of hiding and approached her.

“Are they gone,” Red asked 

“Yeah,” Quinn answered. She listened to the bot read off the diagnostic and shook her head. It didn't sound good. Weapon stores were low and it needed more hydraulic fluid on top of replacing or repairing the outer hull. “But our buddy here isn't.”

“What are we going to do now,” Bittercup chirped.

Quinn lit a cigarette. This was becoming a frustrating event for her.

“I'll have to go to Megaton in the morning and see if Moira has any replacement parts,” Quinn answered.

“Quinn!” Brian yelled. She turned to the boy as he ran up to her and threw his arms around her. She hugged him back and patted him on the head reassuringly. He looked up at her and the joyful smiling face turned into an instant look of fear. “You're bleeding!”

“I'm fine. Don't worry about it,” she grumbled. 

She knew she was hurting. The bloody nose and split lip and blood dripping from her ear had their own amounts of pain. She looked at Dusty and saw he had his own set of injuries with a busted lip and bloody nose too.

“Let me check you out and then you guys can get to bed,” Red responded. Dusty shook his head in disagreement to the request. “Yes, even you, Dusty.”

“Brian, I want you to stay in the house tonight,” Quinn told the boy with a gentle push towards the common house. He looked at her with a nervous look, but she pressed him gently again. “I'll be alright. I'll stay out here to make sure everything is alright.” Brian yawned and Kimba put her arm around the boy as she led him to the house. “Dusty, you go get checked out and you sleep inside tonight as well.”

“No,” Dusty argued. “You are not staying out here by yourself.”

Quinn gave him a look of frustration, but was too weary to argue with him. “Fine. Just get checked out and you and I can alternate posts. I want to talk to Pappy in the AM, so we need our rest.”

Dusty walked off, constantly looking over his shoulder at Quinn. Quinn looked at the moon as Big Town dwindled into silence and she was alone again. She sat at the sentry post, cigarette in hand and pulled out her picture. The wind picked up and threw dust into her face. It was going to be a long night and she wanted to go back to the Citadel, but she was hesitant to do so. She knew she wasn't ready yet, but then again, she couldn't leave these people either. They all needed each other for better or worse.


End file.
